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THE    RELEASE 


OR 


CAROLINE'S    FRENCH    KINDRED 


J^^ 


THE  RELEASE 


OR 


CAROLINE'S   FRENCH   KINDRED 


BY 


CHARLOTTE    M.    YONGE 

AUTHOR  OF   "THE   HEIR  OF   REDCLYFFE,"    "DAISY  CHAIN, 
"  THE  LONG  VACATION,"   ETC.,   ETC. 


MACMILLAN     AND     CO. 

LONDON:    MACMILLAN   &  CO.,   LTD. 
I896 

All  rights  reserved 


Copyright,  1896, 
By  MACMILLAN  AND  CO. 


HtMRVMO"86 


STEfHtt» 


Nortoooti  ^rrss 

J.  S.  dishing  &  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith 

Norwood  Mass.  U.S.A. 


PREFACE 

It  may  be  objected  that  the  two  parts  of  this  vol- 
ume only  adhere  through  the  individuality  of  Caro- 
line ;  but  having  provided  her  with  French  kindred, 
it  was  tempting  to  make  her  the  connecting  link, 
especially  as  those  who  care  to  do  so  may  trace  her 
pedigree  in  the  Chaplet  of  Pearls  and  Stray  Pearls. 

Both  sets  of  adventures  have  a  foundation.  The 
defiance  of  the  French  fleet  actually  took  place,  and 
the  head-dress,  so  proudly  worn,  is  minutely  described 
in  the  memoirs  of  the  court  of  Louis  XVI.,  and  may 
be  found  in  Lady  Jackson's  history ;  but  I  fear  it  was 
a  wife  and  not  a  maiden  who  thus  audaciously  mani- 
fested her  patriotism. 

The  second  story  is  not  in  print,  but  it  was  told  to 
me  by  Monsieur  Guizot  five  and  twenty  years  ago,  — 
of  the  reluctant  nun  appealing  to  the  Pope  and  obtain- 
ing her  release.  I  have  since  had  permission  to  use 
the  circumstance  for  a  plot,  only  withholding  the 
names. 


C.    M.    YONGE. 


November,  1895. 


514166 


CONTENTS 

Part  I 

CA  R  OLINE'S  DEFIA  NCE 

C HAPTEN    1 

PAGR 

The  Little  Sailor 3 

CHAPTER   II 
Madame  la  Marquise      .......       14 

CHAPTER   III 
The  Convent 23 

CHAPTER   IV 
In  the  World  .........       33 

CHAPTER  V 
The  "Belle  Poule" 46 

CHAPTER   VI 
The  Saucy  "Arethusa" 56 

CHAPTER   VII 

Defeat 64 

vii 


Vlll 


CONTENTS 


Part  II 

THE   RELEASE 

CHAPTER   I 
A  Summons        


PAGE 

73 


CHAPTER    II 
The  Hopes  of  France 79 

CHAPTER  III 
The  States-General 88 

CHAPTER  IV 
The  Other  Side  of  the  Question         .         .         .        .       95 

CHAPTER  V 
Votaress  and  Victim 102 

CHAPTER  VI 
The  Bastille U0 

CHAPTER  VII 
To  the  West 120 

CHAPTER  VIII 
Beaudesert's  Watchword 127 

CHAPTER  IX 
Departure 138 


CONTENTS  ix 


CHAPTER    X 

PAGE 

On  the  Seine 147 


CHAPTER    XI 
French  and  English        .  156 

CHAPTER   XII 
Exiled 167 

CHAPTER   XIII 
Recognition      .........     178 

CHAPTER   XIV 
Discipline  versus  Chivalry 189 

CHAPTER   XV 
Strange  Guests 200 

CHAPTER   XVI 
Nuns  Abroad    .........     209 

CHAPTER   XVII 
Sceur  Francoise 219 

CHAPTER    XVIII 
For  Conscience'  Sake 229 

CHAPTER    XIX 
Captain  Aylmer 240 


X  CONTENTS 


CHAPTER   XX 

PAGE 

In  the  Bay  of  Biscay 251 


CHAPTER   XXI 
The  Prioress's  Tale 259 

CHAPTER    XXII 
Gibraltar  .........     270 

CHAPTER   XXIII 
Free 276 


Part  I 
CAROLINE'S   DEFIANCE 


CHAPTER   I 


THE    LITTLE    SAILOR 


"What  shall  we  do  with  her?"  sighed  Mrs.  Dar- 
pent,  a  lady  with  a  large  muslin  cap  over  her  as  yet 
unpowdered  hair,  and  a  loose  grey  wrapper  over  her 
quilted  tiffany  petticoat,  long-waisted  stays,  and  well- 
stuffed,  embroidered  pockets.  She  was  a  fair,  hand- 
some, comfortable-looking  dame,  though  somewhat 
tending  to  portliness,  and  the  cheeks  which  once  had 
been  apple-blossom  asserting  their  hue  of  the  ripened 
fruit.  She  sat  in  an  upright  chair,  without  touching 
the  back,  in  a  room  with  a  little  carpet  in  a  space  of 
polished  oak,  wainscot  panels  on  the  walls,  and  a  shin- 
ing table  on  which  stood  her  work-basket  full  of 
household  linen. 

Her  sigh  was  scarcely  breathed,  before  there  entered, 
riding-whip  in  hand,  with  boots  and  spurs,  a  trim, 
neat-looking  gentleman  in  a  black  coat  and  long  waist- 
coat, with  marked  features,  black  eyebrows,  and  dark 
eyes  under  them,  his  powdered  hair  tied  in  a  queue, 
and  his  three-cornered  hat  just  removed  as  he  entered, 
and  catching  her  words,  asked  — 

"What  has  she  been  doing  now?  —  since  I  conclude 
that  you  mean  my  unlucky  niece.     What  has  she  been 

3 


4  ■      CAROmIHE'S   DEFIANCE  part  i 

doing?"  —  and  there  was  a  twinkle  in  his  eyes  that 
snov,ed  an  expectation  cf  amusement. 

"Doing?  Did  you  not  see  a  disreputable  rag  over 
the  pediment?  She  has  been  climbing  out  on  the 
leads  of  the  north  garret  to  hang  up  what  she  calls 
the  Union  Jack,  and  taking  poor  little  Clem  with  her. 
What  do  you  think  of  that,  Mr.  Darpent?" 

"  I  think  that  Nature  made  a  mistake  when  she  was 
born  a  girl." 

"To  my  mind  the  mistake  was  your  poor  brother's, 
in  taking  her  to  sea  with  him." 

"  He  could  not  bear  to  part  with  her." 
"  And  so  he  unfitted  her  for  decorous  life  at  home ! 
Ah,  you  never  can  bear  to  hear  a  word  censuring  him. 
No,  not  if  she  had  broken  your  son's  neck." 

"  I  conclude  that  his  bones  are  still  entire.  What 
have  you  done  to  the  children?" 

"Whipped  them  both  soundly  and  sent  Caroline  to 
bed.  But  if  no  worse  comes  of  it,  you  may  make  up 
your  mind  that  Clement  will  never  be  satisfied  with- 
out becoming  a  sailor." 

"There  are  worse  professions." 
"Mr.  Darpent,   you  do  not  mean  to  say  that  you 
would  wish  to  see  your  eldest  son  and  heir  wrecked, 
and  shot  down,  and  thrown  into  a  French  prison,  and 
eaten  by  the  sharks." 

"They  do  not  haunt  French  prisons,  my  dearest 
life." 

"Now,    Mr.    Darpent,    you    are    in    your   teasing 

mood " 

"Hark!  there's  the  postman's  horn."  Wherewith 
Mr.  Darpent  darted  out,  "like  quicksilver,"  as  his 
lady  was  wont  to  say.  "But  there,  what  could  be 
expected  of  a  man  with  French  blood  in  his  veins?" 


chap,  i  THE   LITTLE    SAILOR  5 

For  Squire  Clement  Darpent  was  the  grandson  of  a 
French  lawyer,  who  had  given  umbrage  to  the  Court 
during  the  Fronde,  and  coming  to  England  had  mar- 
ried into  a  family  likewise  of  French  extraction  settled 
there  in  the  days  of  the  Reformation.  Though  the 
family  had  thoroughly  embraced  English  life,  he  bore 
the  ineradicable  impress  of  his  Gallic  blood  in  his 
features  and  his  vivacity,  though  his  mother  and  wife 
were  absolutely  English.  His  brother  Eustace  had 
been  in  the  navy,  and  in  the  course  of  the  various 
encounters  in  the  West  Indies  had  captured  a  vessel 
from  Guadaloupe  containing  as  passengers  the  young 
Chevalier  de  Bellaise  and  his  bride,  together  with  her 
sister  Marguerite  de  Mericourt.  Of  course  the  cap- 
tain behaved  to  them  with  all  chivalry,  and  won  their 
hearts  by  showing  himself  so  nearly  a  Frenchman; 
nor  were  they  slow  to  discover  the  old  connection 
between  the  families.  He  was  young,  handsome, 
and  distinguished.  Marguerite  was  portionless,  and 
was  to  be  taken  home  to  a  convent,  and  before  the 
Spider  had  reached  a  harbour,  the  web  was  woven 
round  them;  they  discovered  that  they  could  not  be 
parted;  and  while  Monsieur  and  Madame  de  Bellaise 
were  sent  ashore  near  St.  Domingo,  Captain  Darpent 
and  Marguerite  de  Mericourt  were  married  by  a  chap- 
lain at  Jamaica. 

This  was  before  the  presence  of  officers'  wives  was 
forbidden  on  their  husbands'  voyages,  and  for  several 
years  Marguerite  Darpent  sailed  with  her  husband, 
till  she  was  cut  off  by  fever,  leaving  him  one  little 
girl  of  five  years  old.  Her  foster-sister,  a  Guada- 
loupe negress,  had  never  left  her,  and  continued  in 
charge  of  the  child,  with  whom  her  father,  now  an 
Admiral,  would  not  hear  of  parting  till,  when  she  was 


6  CAROLINE'S   DEFIANCE  part  i 

about  eleven  years  old,  as  he  was  reluctantly  bringing 
her  home,  allowing  that  the  time  when  she  must  be 
educated  had  really  come,  he  fell  ill,  and  died  just  as 
his  ship  doubled  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope. 

Little  Caroline  was  fetched  to  Walwyn,  with  her 
nurse  Zelie,  by  her  uncle,  taking  leave  in  floods  of 
tears  of  the  Corcyr,  which  had  been  her  home  for  four 
years  past,  and  where  indeed  she  had  reigned  like  a 
little  princess  over  the  crew.  Her  aunt  at  Walwyn 
had  expected  a  little  savage.  This  she  was  not,  for 
the  Admiral  had,  with  old-fashioned  punctilio,  been 
very  careful  of  her  manners,  and  his  flag-captain's 
wife  had  taken  up  her  education  in  feminine  arts.  She 
could  sew  and  do  some  reading  and  writing,  and  she 
could  talk  French  much  better  than  her  cousins,  though 
theirs  was  fairly  good,  for  it  had  never  been  allowed 
to  die  out  of  the  family.  She  had  pretty  manners  on 
occasion,  but  she  had  been  the  pet  of  the  whole  crew, 
and  her  chief  companions  and  friends  had  been  the 
young  lieutenant,  son  to  the  motherly  Mrs.  Aylmer, 
her  playfellow  Harry  Norton,  a  midshipman  of  her 
own  age,  and  also  the  old  boatswain!  It  must  be 
owned  that  she  had  not  learned  much  positive  harm 
by  her  strange  associations.  Every  one  had  respected 
their  little  lady,  the  Admiral's  daughter,  and  her 
father  and  Mrs.  Aylmer  had  been  very  careful  of  her 
in  essentials ;  but  her  daring,  her  dancing,  her  climb- 
ing, and  her  sea-phrases  were  a  terrible  trial  to  Madam 
Darpent,  whose  view  was  that  girls  should  be  bred  up 
in  the  prim  decorum  of  the  eighteenth  century. 

The  girl  had  been  at  Walwyn  about  three  months. 
At  first  she  was  depressed  and  shy,  missing  her  father's 
tenderness,  and  perhaps  missing  still  more  the  free  life 
which  she  had  led  at  sea;  but  as  her  spirits  revived, 


chap,  i  THE   LITTLE   SAILOR  7 

she  began  to  teach  her  cousins  all  she  had  learnt  on 
board,  and  as  they  were  all  boys,  this  was  the  more 
congenial.  To  tie  sailors'  knots  might  be  useful  and 
convenient,  but  what  were  the  feelings  of  Mrs.  Dar- 
pent  when  Caroline  was  discovered  whistling  a  horn- 
pipe and  teaching  little  Eustace  to  dance  one,  on  the 
hall  table,  with  personal  illustrations,  her  skirts  held 
up  high  so  as  to  show  her  steps.  Or  when  she  was 
found  trying  to  rig  up  the  old  boat  for  a  voyage  on  the 
pond,  and  was  found  on  the  top  of  half  the  trees,  and 
of  all  the  walls  in  the  Dutch  garden,  with  Clement, 
Philip,  and  Eustace  following  in  her  wake. 

One  wet  day  a  tremendous  noise  in  the  attic  story 
led  to  the  discovery  of  Neptune  and  Amphitrite  cross- 
ing the  line  in  a  superannuated  arm-chair,  Neptune 
holding  aloft  his  three-pronged  fork,  and  his  father's 
cocked  hat  put  on  wrong  side  foremost,  and  an  ancient 
blue  cloak  enwrapping  him,  while  Amphitrite  wore  a 
bunch  of  red  and  green  parrot's  feathers  and  an  Indian 
mantle,  and  carried  a  sceptre  of  swordfish's  spike! 
Waves  were  furnished  by  mats  and  carpets,  in  which 
the  gardener's  children  and  the  dogs  wallowed  and 
kicked  up  their  heels,  and  Caroline,  in  a  sailor's  coat, 
was  engaged  before  the  throne  in  shaving  Clement 
with  a  big  old  wooden  sword  over  a  washing  tub  of 
water,  into  which  the  startling  surprise  caused  him  to 
plump  at  once ! 

It  was  a  time  when  to  climb  three  steps  of  a  ladder 
was  not  thought  decorous  in  a  young  lady;  and  to 
have  the  heads  of  her  four  boys  filled  with  sea-stories 
was  beyond  the  bearing  of  poor  Madam  Darpent,  more 
especially  as  her  husband  was  much  more  disposed  to 
laugh  at  than  to  punish  the  enormities  of  the  children. 

So  he  hurried  out,  at  the  excuse  of  the  postman's 


8  CAHOLINE'S   DEFIANCE  part  i 

horn,  into  the  large  paved  court  with  handsome  gates, 
which  formed  the  entrance  to  Walwyn  Court.  The 
servants  had  been  before  him,  and  were  refreshing 
the  postman  with  a  horn  of  ale,  which  he  was  drain- 
ing before  proceeding  to  look  out  his  budget  for  the 
Squire.  Meantime,  Mr.  Darpent,  while  waiting, 
looked  up  at  the  great  carved  pediment  which  fin- 
ished the  front  of  the  house,  with  the  Walwyn  and 
Ribaumont  arms  quartered  together,  and  above  them 
hung,  or  rather  drooped,  a  not  very  artistic  flag  of 
England.  The  passage  to  it,  from  the  adjacent  win- 
dow, looked  so  perilous  that,  whatever  he  had  said  to 
his  wife,  he  could  not  help  shuddering  and  turning 
away  his  eyes  when  he  thought  of  his  son  and  niece 
encountering  it. 

The  postman  claimed  his  fee,  no  less  than  a  crown 
piece,  for  the  letter,  which  had  an  enormous  black 
seal  with  a  coroneted  coat-of-arms,  was  from  France. 
Mr.  Darpent  knew  it  well,  for  connection  with  the 
French  cousins  had  never  been  entirely  dropped,  and 
family  events  were  always  communicated.  He  had 
written  to  inform  Madame  de  Bellaise  of  the  death 
of  his  brother,  and  had  no  doubt  that  this  was  the 
response. 

He  had  spoken  French  easily  when  a  child,  for  his 
grandfather  had  made  a  point  of  keeping  up  his  par- 
ents' native  tongue;  but  for  want  of  use,  he  was  not 
so  ready  therewith  as  his  niece,  and  the  tall,  slender, 
pointed,  and  flourished  handwriting  of  the  Bellaise 
de  Nidemerle  family  cost  him  always  an  effort  to 
read.  Besides,  he  supposed  it  would  be  only  condo- 
lence for  a  loss  that  could  hardly  be  very  present  or 
afflicting  to  the  sister-in-law.  So  he  put  it  aside  till 
he  had  opened  his  newspaper,  where  he  was  anxiously 


chap,   i  THE    LITTLE   SAILOR  9 

watching  for  news  from  America,  dreading  a  revolt  of 
the  colonies,  though  supposing  that  it  would  be  easily 
put  down. 

It  was  not  till  he  had  settled  himself  in  his  arm- 
chair in  the  study  —  a  room  with  more  books  than 
were  usual  for  a  country  gentleman,  but  with  a  con- 
siderable proportion  of  guns  and  pistols  —  that  he 
applied  himself  to  deciphering  the  tall,  pointed, 
flourishing  hand  in  which  the  lady,  who  signed  her- 
self his  cousin,  Mericourt  de  jSTidemerle,  expressed 
her  condolences  for  the  death  of  ce  bon  et  honnite 
amiral,  whose  courtoisie  and  bienveillance  she  should 
never  forget.  After  a  good  deal  more  of  this  kind, 
she  proceeded  to  relate  that  two  years  ago  her  brother- 
in-law,  the  Marquis  de  jSTidemerle,  had  died,  so  that 
her  husband,  who  had  been  known  as  the  Chevalier 
de  Bellaise,  had  succeeded  to  his  title  and  become 
head  of  the  family.  Then  she  went  on  to  propose 
that  she  might  be  permitted  to  adopt  the  daughter 
of  her  beloved  sister,  who  would  find  loving  friends 
in  her  own  daughters,  and  to  whom  she  would  be  a 
mother,  no  doubt  finding  an  excellent  marriage  for 
her,  since  a  dot  should  be  provided  for  her;  and  there 
was  at  present  such  an  Anglo-mania,  and  such  talk  of 
liberty  and  philosophy,  that  her  descent  from  an  exile 
of  the  Fronde  would  be  rather  an  advantage  to  her 
than  otherwise.  If  Monsieur  her  cousin  would  bring 
her  over,  he  would  see  for  himself  how  welcome  she 
should  be  —  all  the  more  if  she  brought  with  her  the 
dear  old  Zelie  who  had  nursed  both  the  sisters. 

Mr.  Darpent  gave  a  long  whistle.  "  My  little  Caro- 
line! Poor  Eustace's  little  Carry  —  to  turn  her  over 
to  foreign  parts !  It  is  not  what  I  meant  —  or  he 
meant!    Papists,  too!     It  is  against  my  conscience." 


10  CAROLINE'S   DEFIANCE  part  i 

Here  he  was  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of  his 
wife,  now  in  full  splendour,  in  case  of  afternoon  vis- 
itors, in  a  full  brocade  dress,  with  hair  powdered  and 
rolled  over  a  cushion,  short  sleeves,  and  long  mittens. 
"  So,  Mr.  Darpent,  there  you  sit  at  your  ease,  not 
caring  while  your  niece  is  disturbing  the  house  with 
her  pranks,  and  ruining  your  sons." 

"What  now?     I  thought  you  had  whipped  her  and 
sent  her  to  bed?" 

"So  I  had;  but  what  does  the  brazen  hussy  do,  but 
twist  up  the  sheets  like  a  heathen  Indian  woman  — 
more  shame  for  her !  —  and  call  the  boys  to  make  a 
feast,  or  some  nonsense,  on  the  nursery  floor,  —  make- 
believe  dishes,  of  course ;  but  there  they  sat,  all  cross- 
legged,  with  her  prating  away,  and  ordering  about,  in 
French,  that  horrid  Zelie,  who  always  gives  me  the 
creeps.  When  Betty  called  me,  and  I  came  in  on 
them,  what  do  you  think  she  had  the  impudence  to 
say  to  me?  — 'Oh,  Aunt  Darpent,  I  thought,  when  I 
had  been  flogged  and  mast-headed,  that  I  need  not  be 
under  arrest  any  longer ! '  " 
"  What  have  you  done  now?  " 

"  I  could  not  whip  her  again,  but  I  sent  her  to  bed 
again,  and  ordered  off  the  boys  to  learn  their  lessons ; 
bat  I  expect  to  find  her  in  some  mischief,  in  spite  of 
me.  I  protest  she  must  go  to  school.  She  is  past 
me.  Only,  where  are  we  to  find  means  to  send  her 
up  to  Queen's  Square?  And  even  Miss  More,  at 
Bristol,  has  her  prices." 

"What  say  you  to  this,  madam?" 
"You   have   one   of  your   French   letters?     It   is 
time,  indeed,  they  took  notice  of  their  own  sister's 
child." 

"Listen,  then."     And  he  proceeded  to   translate, 


chap,  i  THE   LITTLE    SAILOR  11 

for  madam  had  forgotten  the  little  French  she  had 
ever  known. 

"Ah,"  she  cried,  "it  is  perfectly  providential! 
They  will  provide  for  her.  Oh  yes,  let  her  go  by  all 
means!     They  ought  to  do  it." 

"  The  sister  ought  to  take  some  interest  in  her,  cer- 
tainly; but  I  do  not  like  sending  my  poor  brother's 
child  among  the  Papists." 

"Why,  the  child  is  a  Papist  already  —  or  half  a 
one !  She  has  got  a  crucifix  and  a  string  of  beads  in 
her  room." 

"Her  mother's,  of  course." 

"Yes,  of  course,  so  I  did  not  take  them  away." 

"But  she  goes  to  church;  and  did  not  I  hear  her 
saying  the  Catechism  to  you  with  the  boys?" 

"Oh  yes!  Her  father  had  taught  her  the  Cate- 
chism, and  she  has  read  the  Bible  with  him  every 
day,  she  says ;  but  she  stood  and  gaped  when  I  asked 
her  what  she  was ;  and  if  she  has  ever  been  to  church 
before,  it  was  with  the  black  woman,  or  maybe  her 
mother,  in  some  Popish  place.  She  will  not  see  the 
difference." 

"I  do  not  know  that  I  can  answer  it  to  myself, 
when  I  remember  what  my  father  fled  from." 

"  I  thought  you  always  told  me  they  were  political 
exiles?" 

"The  Ribaumonts " 

"  Oh,  never  mind  all  that !  You  can  have  her  back 
again  when  she  has  been  educated,  and  do  what  you 
please  with  her.  But  I  should  like  to  know  how  you 
propose  to  bring  her  up  as  a  young  lady  here,  among 
all  these  boys,  when  she  is  ready  to  be  the  veriest 
tom-boy  of  them  all." 

"You  spoke  of  school.'' 


12  CAROLINE'S   DEFIANCE  part  i 

"  Ay,  and  it  would  cost  as  much  to  send  her  to  any 
good  ladies'  seminary  as  it  would  to  educate  one  of 
your  own  boys;  and  you  know  yourself  that  it  will 
go  hard  with  the  estate  to  educate  five  sons  —  and 
your  first  duty  is  to  your  own,  Mr.  Darpent." 

"Poor  Eustace!  He  is  my  own,  and  so  is  his 
child." 

"What  can  you  do  better  for  her  than  this?  We 
cannot  give  her  female  companions,  which  is  what  she 
wants  to  soften  and  tame  her.  Any  school  we  could 
send  her  to  would  be  far  inferior  to  such  an  education 
as  she  would  get  in  France;  and,  as  to  her  staying 
here,  it  is  bad  for  herself  as  for  the  boys." 

Poor  Mr.  Darpent!  He  saw  fate  before  him,  and 
contested  no  farther,  for  the  time,  though  he  was  not 
without  hopes  in  the  great  force  of  delay  and  non- 
contradiction. But,  without  knowing  it,  Caroline 
sealed  her  own  destiny,  or  Clement  did  so. 

The  boys  gravitated  towards  her,  for  she  was  by  far 
the  most  amusing  person  in  the  house ;  and  no  sooner 
was  their  mother  safe  in  the  study,  than  they  crept 
back  to  her  again.  She  was  a  fair  child,  with  grey 
eyes  and  flaxen  hair,  which  was  cut  short  and  tucked 
away  under  a  little  unfrilled  nightcap,  but  peeped  out 
in  tight  little  curly  waves,  as  she  sat  up  in  her  nar- 
row wooden  crib,  with  a  broom  in  one  hand  and  a 
poker  in  the  other,  swaying  herself  backwards  and 
forwards  with  the  motions  of  rowing,  and  crooning 
out  a  sea-song. 

"That's  right!"  she  cried,  as  Clement  peeped  in. 
"  I  knew  you  would  not  forsake  a  comrade." 

"Papa  and  mamma  are  shut  up  in  the  study,  con- 
sulting," said  the  boy.  "I  wonder  what  it  can  be? 
Sending  you  to  school,  I  expect." 


chap,  i  THE   LITTLE    SAILOR  13 

"If  they  do,  I'll  run  away,  and  go  to  sea." 

"You,  Carry!" 

"  Why  not?     I  know  all  the  ropes." 

"But  you're  a  girl!  " 

"Well,  what  of  that?  I  could  borrow  your  clothes 
and  get  to  Weymouth,  then  I'd  ship  me  on  board  a 
coaster  going  to  Plymouth,  if  I  could  find  nothing- 
better  —  and  there  I  should  meet  some  of  my  papa's 
old  friends." 

"  I  wish  you  would  take  me  with  you. " 

"  So  I  would.  It  would  be  much  better  sport  than 
going  alone.  Then  we  would  walk  —  not  meddle  with 
a  lubber  of  a  coaster,  but  take  a  boat  from  one  port  to 
another.     Oh,  what  fun  it  would  be !  " 

The  two  children  romanced  together,  without  any 
real  idea  of  putting  their  scheme  into  practice.  But 
Mrs.  Darpent  was  not  a  woman  of  imagination,  and, 
catching  a  few  words  of  the  eager  picture,  was  horri- 
fied as  she  stood  at  the  door.  She  ordered  Clement 
out  of  the  room,  and  not  to  go  near  his  cousin  again, 
locked  the  door  upon  her  victim,  and  betook  herself 
to  her  husband  with  her  story,  and  from  that  time  she 
gave  him  no  peace  till  his  preparations  for  getting  rid 
of  this  dangerous  inmate  were  put  in  hand. 


CHAPTER   II 

MADAME   LA    MARQUISE 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  of  a  November  day  that 
Mr.  Darpent  and  his  little  niece  rattled  through  the 
streets  of  Paris,  in  the  caleche  de  poste  which  they 
had  taken  at  Calais,  drawn  by  two  big,  heavy,  dappled- 
grey  Norman  horses,  and  ridden  by  a  wonderful-look- 
ing postilion  in  enormous  boots  and  wild  hair. 

On  the  whole,  both  had  rather  enjoyed  the  journey. 
Caroline  had  shed  a  few  tears,  and  Clement  many,  at 
their  parting,  but  the  hope  of  her  return  was  not  taken 
from  her,  and  the  girl  was  so  much  used  to  change  of 
place,  that  she  was  impatient  of  Walwyn,  and  glad, 
whatever  might  be  coming,  to  move  on.  The  crossing 
was  absolute  joy  to  her;  she  only  wished  it  could  have 
been  infinitely  prolonged.  The  smell  of  the  sea  and 
the  motion  of  the  vessel  were  felicity  to  her;  and  the 
strange  voices,  and  Calais,  looking  as  we  may  see  it 
in  Hogarth's  print,  was  a  new  experience,  much  more 
amusing  than  Walwyn,  even  with  the  company  of 
Clement  and  Eustace;  and  she  had  no  trouble  with 
the  language,  nor  indeed  had  her  uncle,  so  that  the 
journey  was  an  amusement,  in  which  he  enjoyed  mak- 
ing acquaintance  with  the  land  of  his  forefathers. 

They  drove  under  the  porte  cochere  into  the  great 
paved  courtyard,  with  the  house  opposite   to   them. 

14 


chap,  ii  MADAME   LA  MARQUISE  15 

A  crowd  of  lackeys,  in  brilliant  livery,  stood  about 
the  steps  to  receive  them,  and  ushered  them  up  a  broad 
stair,  where,  on  the  first  landing,  stood  M.  le  Marquis; 
a  handsome  spectacle  in  his  laced  coat  and  long 
waistcoat.  He  bowed  low  to  Monsieur  son  cousin, 
and  then,  with  "  Permit  me,  mademoiselle  ma  niece," 
kissed  Caroline's  little  gloved  hand,  hot  and  dusty  as 
it  was,  and  holding  it,  led  her  up  another  flight,  to  a 
lofty  salon  door,  where  stood  a  tall,  majestic-looking 
lady,  in  a  great  hoop,  and  with  her  powdered  hair  in 
little  curls. 

"Ah!  ma  chere  niece.  Sweet  reminder  of  my 
beloved  Marguerite,"  she  cried;  and  in  a  moment 
Caroline  was  in  her  arms,  pressed  to  her  bosom,  and 
her  cheeks  watered  by  a  shower  of  tears.  There  was 
something  in  the  tone  and  the  embraces  which  brought 
back  to  the  child  the  remembrance  of  the  mother  she 
had  yearned  for,  and  never  found  again ;  and  with  a 
low  cry  of  "  Mainan,  Maman !  "  she  clung  to  the  lady, 
who  sobbed  over  her,  not,  however,  without  whisking 
a  curl  out  of  her  way,  but  so  deftly  that  it  was  no 
shock  to  the  child. 

She  was  treated  to  a  little  glass  of  eau  sacree  and  a 
biscuit,  and  then  conducted  to  her  chamber  through 
that  of  Madame  de  Nidemerle.  She  looked  for  her 
cousins,  but  she  was  told  that  they  were  in  their  con- 
vent, where  she  would  find  them  in  a  few  days'  time. 

The  idea  was  not  so  alarming  to  Caroline  as  might 
have  been  expected.  Twice  she  had  spent  a  few 
weeks  with  her  mother  in  a  nunnery,  where  she  had 
been  petted  by  the  Sisters,  and  she  had  a  delightful 
remembrance  of  kisses,  oranges,  sugar-canes,  and  all 
that  was  delicious.  It  was  so  far  connected  with  her 
old  life  that  it  seemed  congenial,  and  if  she  could  not 


16  CAROLINE'S   DEFIANCE  part  i 

be  at  sea,  the  alternative  seemed  preferable  to  hem- 
ming and  sewing  under  Aunt  Darpent,  and  being 
whipped  and  sent  to  bed  whenever  she  got  a  little 
enjoyment  with  the  boys. 

As  to  her  uncle,  it  is  a  curious  fact  that  the  mutual 
antipathy  between  Roman  Catholics  and  Protestants 
was  a  good  deal  in  abeyance  in  the  latter  years  of 
the  eighteenth  century.  It  seems  to  have  died  down 
in  the  general  indifference.  Eoman  Catholic  priests, 
educated  at  foreign  universities,  were  cultivated  gentle- 
men, friends  of  the  more  educated  gentry.  Dr.  Milner 
and  Dr.  Lingard  are  examples.  Hannah  More  was  the 
intimate  friend  of  Mrs.  Garrick,  and  Mrs.  Jean  Moore, 
the  sister  of  the  hero  of  Corunna,  was  educated  in 
a  French  convent  before  the  Revolution.  Besides, 
Mr.  Darpent  was  uncertain  what  his  brother  would 
have  wished,  or  what  he  might  have  arranged  with 
his  wife;  and  he  made  no  objection  to  the  scheme. 

Zelie  was  delighted  to  have  met  Coralie  and  Cesar, 
the  old  black  comrades  of  her  youth,  from  whom 
she  had  parted  to  follow  her  mistress.  She  brought 
Coralie  to  see  "la  petite  mamselle,"  and  there  was 
immense  jubilation  over  her  in  queer  negro  French, 
only  marred  by  the  fact  that  the  two  black  nurses 
had  to  remain  at  the  Hotel  de  Nidemerle,  instead  of 
being  with  the  young  ladies  at  the  convent. 

They  were  in  full  chatter  when  Madame  de  Nide- 
merle,  full  dressed  in  primrose  brocade  laced  with  blue, 
and  with  her  hair  raised  to  a  preposterous  height  and 
width,  came  to  conduct  her  niece  down  to  supper. 

Young  ladies  were  not  expected  to  be  thus  richly 
arrayed,  so  that  Caroline's  simple  mourning,  long- 
waisted  dress,  with  elbow-long  sleeves  and  long,  droop- 
ing crape  cuffs,  and  her  hair  drawn  up  by  Coralie  in 


chap,  ii  MADAME   LA  MARQUISE  17 

the  newest  fashion  of  youth,  was  held  as  suitable  to 
her  age,  and  really  affected  one  or  two  of  the  emotional 
ladies  to  tears ;  while  she  was  studying  their  head- 
dresses with  amazement,  perfect  castles  and  gardens 
as  some  of  them  were,  —  and  even  one  lady  wore 
Mount  Parnassus,  with  little  waxen  figures  of  all  the 
nine  muses,  and  Apollo  playing  on  the  lyre  with 
Pegasus  by  his  side. 

The  lady  who  wore  this  wonderful  arrangement  was 
something  of  a  student,  and  was  talking  eagerly  of  the 
system  of  Rousseau.  Indeed,  the  name  Emile  sounded 
so  often  that  Caroline  began  to  listen  to  discover  whose 
child  he  was.  However,  the  lady  turned  round  to  her 
with  "  Ah  !  mademoiselle,  you  have  had  experiences  ! 
You  have  seen  the  lovely  countries  of  the  tropics  and 
lived  a  sweet  natural  life." 

"I  have  lived  chiefly  in  a  ship,  madame,"  said 
Caroline,  in  careful  French. 

"  Ah !  you  belong  to  ces  braves  Anglais." 

For  at  this  brief  interval,  the  English  were  greatly 
the  fashion  in  France.  Their  institutions  were  im- 
mensely admired,  as  one  form  of  liberty,  and  their 
horses,  their  carriages,  and  the  simplicity  of  their 
country  life  came  in  for  the  enthusiasm. 

Caroline  was  surrounded  by  a  whole  party  of  ladies, 
questioning  her  eagerly  upon  her  life  on  board  ship, 
and  receiving  every  bit  of  information  with  little  cries 
and  exclamations,  very  different  from  Aunt  Darpent, 
who  had  always  treated  these  doings  as  something  to 
be  hushed  up  and  to  be  ashamed  of.  "  Ah !  she  has 
seen  those  noble  islanders  !  She  has  eaten  cocoa-nuts ! 
She  has  watched  the  flying  fish !  Do  you  hear,  mon 
ange?  mademoiselle  says  the  sea  is  full  of  coral." 

Probably  her   auditors   thought   it   was   red  coral, 


18  CAROLINE'S   DEFIANCE  part  i 

ready  to  become  necklaces  on  the  spot !  If  she  could 
only  have  seen  the  diaries  in  which  some  of  them  re- 
corded the  revelations  of  la  petite  Anglaise,  vrai  enfant 
de  la  Nature,  who  was  supposed  to  have  grown  up  in 
a  perfect  Eden  of  simplicity,  and  witnessed  the  dances 
of  a  tropical  Arcadia  if  not  joined  in  them. 

That  one  evening  was  a  perfect  success,  and  the 
child  was  like  a  new  toy  among  the  ladies. 

However,  Madame  de  Nidemerle  considered  such 
successes  as  prejudicial  to  the  young  lady's  disposition 
and  prospects,  or  perhaps  she  thought  what  once  in  a 
way  had  been  an  attraction  to  her  salon  would  not  bear 
repetition. 

A  cup  of  milk  and  a  little  roll  were  brought  by 
Zelie  to  the  little  cabinet  where  Caroline  slept  within 
her  aunt's  room,  in  early  morning,  while  she  was  still 
asleep,  after  her  journey  and  evening's  dissipation. 
She  had  begun  to  dress  herself,  when  Madame  de 
Niclemerle  looked  in. 

uAh!  that  is  well,  my  child.  You  will  be  ready 
by  the  time  I  return  from  Mass.  Thou  hast  slept 
well,  my  angel  ?     Ah,  thou  art  as  fresh  as  a  rose." 

Caroline  had  no  time  to  answer,  only  to  exchange 
an  embrace  with  the  lady,  who  wore  a  large  blue 
caleche  or  hood  over  a  mob  cap,  which  entirely  con- 
cealed her  hair,  and  a  loose  sacque,  her  morning 
undress,  in  which  to  attend  Mass  at  the  nearest 
church.  Indeed,  bells  were  ringing  in  different  direc- 
tions all  over  Paris,  and  wafted  a  sweet,  mingled 
music  to  Caroline's  ears,  as  she  leant  on  the  window- 
seat  and  looked  out.  Here  she  could  see  nothing  but 
high  roofs  and  chimneys,  with  the  swallows  flying 
about  and  perching  on  them,  but  when  she  peeped 
into  her  aunt's  room  there  was  no  lack  of  entertain- 


chap,   ii  MADAME   LA   MARQUISE  19 

ment.  It  was  a  splendid  place.  The  bed  was  in  an 
alcove,  railed  in,  and  shut  off  by  curtains  of  the  most 
beautiful  brocade,  representing  sheep,  shepherds,  and 
shepherdesses  on  an  azure  ground,  and  the  toilette- 
table  opposite  was  a  perfect  museum  of  wonders. 
There  was  the  great  mirror,  with  the  gilded  and 
ebony  frame,  a  marquis's  coronet  on  the  top,  and  the 
arms  of  the  family  enamelled  on  the  elaborately 
adorned  sides,  and  all  around  were  beautiful  chased 
gold  and  silver  or  ivory  and  enamelled  caskets  and 
trays,  with  china  or  glass  bottles  and  jars  for  scents 
or  cosmetics ;  fans,  too,  of  beauteous  device ;  and  on 
one  side  a  cage  with  a  green  parrot,  on  the  other  a 
little  marmoset.  To  Caroline  this  last  was  like  an 
old  acquaintance,  and  she  was  talking  to  it  and  play- 
ing with  it,  when  Cesar  entered  with  a  tray  of  chocolate 
cups,  followed  by  another  lackey  bearing  a  tablecloth 
and  other  appliances  for  the  more  solid  dejeuner  that 
was  to  be  served  on  the  return  of  Madame  la  Marquise ; 
and  a  little  silky  white  dog  followed  them,  so  that 
she  hardly  knew  on  which  playmate  to  bestow  her 
attention. 

"Ah!  fi  done,  he  bites,  mon  ange,"  was  the  first 
thing  she  heard  as  her  aunt  entered,  while  she  was 
scratching  the  little  monkey's  frilled  head. 

"Ma  tante,  no;  I  know  how  to  manage  them.  I 
had  one  from  Cayenne,  and  it  loved  me,  and  slept  in 
my  berth,  and  I  was  desolate  when  it  died.  The  car- 
penter made  it  a  little  coffin  of  sandal-wood,  and  the 
boatswain  (oh !  how  do  you  call  a  boatswain  ?)  made 
a  little  Union  Jack  to  wrap  it  in." 

"  What  is  that  ?  Un  Jaques  d'Union  ?  Ah  !  my 
friend,  they  will  tell  you  in  the  convent  that  it  is 
not  polite  to  laugh  at  a  mistake." 


20  CAROLINE'S   DEFIANCE  part  i 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  aunt.  The  Union  Jack  is  our 
flag,  the  flag  of  Britain  —  the  crosses  of  St.  George, 
St.  Andrew,  and  St.  Patrick  united.  It  is  our  pride. 
All  sailors  are  buried  with  it ;  I  mean,  it  is  over  their 
coffins  when  they  are  sunk  in  the  sea.  Ah !  I  should 
not "  —  and  there  was  a  gush  of  tears,  while  her  aunt, 
surprised,  asked,  with  kisses,  what  grieved  her. 

"  Ah  !  it  came  back,"  she  sobbed.  "  It  was  used 
when  —  when  —  my  dear  father  was  —  committed  to 
the  deep  —  out  in  the  Atlantic." 

Madame  de  Mdemerle  drew  the  child  into  her  arms 
and  caressed  her  fondly,  bathing  her  handkerchief  with 
scent ;  and  in  the  meantime  the  breakfast  continued  to 
be  brought  in,  and  Caroline  fled  back  into  her  room  to 
compose  herself,  and  her  aunt  made  a  little  coquettish 
arrangement  of  her  undress  garments,  Mr.  Darpent  was 
ushered  into  the  room  together  with  M.  le  Marquis, 
and  the  various  dainty  dishes  prepared  for  the  first 
meal  of  the  day.  The  lady  told  them  that  she  wished 
to  receive  them  here  for  the  breakfast  "  en  famille," 
because  she  wished  to  talk  about  la  petite,  whom  she 
found  charming,  and  si  sensible,  by  which  Mr.  Darpent 
had  to  recollect  that  she  meant  something  very  unlike 
what  his  wife  understood  by  sensible ;  and  only  when 
Caroline  returned  with  the  red  mark  not  entirely 
effaced  from  her  cheekbones,  did  he  quite  understand 
madame  wished  to  take  her  to  the  convent  that  very 
day.  It  would  suit  with  her  own  engagements,  and 
on  the  next,  there  would  be  a  review  at  Versailles, 
which  Mr.  Darpent  would  certainly  wish  to  see.  And 
in  truth  the  child  was  too  charming  to  be  continually 
in  the  salon  (whereat  the  Marquis  laughed  with  a 
little  malice),  and  ought  to  go  to  complete  her  edu- 
cation. 


chap,  ii  MADAME    LA   MARQUISE  21 

To  which  the  good  Squire  assented,  not  indeed 
thinking  the  salon  the  most  wholesome  place  in  the 
world,  nor  one  which  he  would  like  to  have  seen  fre- 
quented by  a  daughter  of  his  own.  He  left  the  ques- 
tion of  religion  —  not  without  a  qualm,  but  he  was  not 
at  all  sure  whether  her  parents,  at  least  her  mother, 
had  not  meant  her  to  be  a  Koman  Catholic  ;  and  if  she 
was  to  be  bred  up  and  married  in  France,  she  had 
better  conform  to  the  faith  of  the  country.  He  did 
not  much  like  the  notion  of  being  conducted  to  the 
convent,  but  he  felt  it  due  to  his  brother  to  see  what 
sort  of  place  it  might  be.  Zelie  was  to  remain  with 
her  compatriots  in  the  great  establishment  of  Nide- 
merle.  She  cried  bitterly  as  she  packed  Caroline's 
small  properties,  though  her  young  mistress  largely 
promised  that  when  her  education  was  finished  they 
would  go  out  to  some  West  Indian  island  and  live 
there  under  the  palms. 

"  But  it  shall  be  an  English  isle,  Zelie ;  I  will  never 
live  under  any  flag  save  the  English." 

Zelie's  chief  consolation  was  the  present  one  of 
being  with  Coralie  and  Cesar  —  with  whom  she  was, 
of  course,  far  happier  than  in  the  English  household, 
where  the  servants  had  called  her  "  Blackamoor  "  and 
Blackie,  and  had  avoided  her,  while  the  French,  even 
the  white  ones,  were  always  civil  to  her. 

So  when  Madame  de  Nidemerle  had  completed  her 
toilette,  and  appeared  with  a  turned-up  hat  and 
feathers  on  the  top  of  her  powdered  hair,  she,  with 
Caroline  and  Mr.  Darpent,  entered  the  gaudily 
blazoned  carriage.  It  was  a  very  lofty  one,  but 
madame's  head-gear  made  it  needful  for  her  to  sit 
on  a  cushion  in  the  bottom  of  it,  instead  of  on  the 
seat.     Thus,    with    four    horses,    two    postilions,    a 


22  CAROLINE'S  DEFIANCE  part  i 

coachman,  and  four  lackeys  hanging  on  behind,  in 
gorgeous  liveries,  progress  was  slow  through  the  very- 
narrow  streets,  where  projecting  upper  stories  almost 
met  overhead,  and  linen  hung  out  to  dry  from  them. 
Sometimes  there  was  a  space  of  wall,  with  trees  look- 
ing over  it,  belonging  to  some  great  lordly  house,  but 
even  here  the  vantage  ground  was  occupied  by  booths 
or  stalls  of  vendors  of  all  manner  of  goods,  which  they 
proclaimed  at  the  top  of  their  voices.  Every  cabaret 
or  cafe  had  tables  in  front,  where  people  sat  eating 
and  drinking;  at  the  corners  were  charcoal  stoves, 
with  old  women  roasting  and  selling  chestnuts,  and 
how  the  horses  steered  their  way  through  the  crowded 
thoroughfare  of  strange  figures  was  a  continual  wonder 
alike  to  Caroline  and  her  uncle. 


CHAPTER   III 


THE    CONVENT 


The  convent  of  Ste.  Lucie  stood  outside  the  walls, 
higher  up  the  Seine,  which  flowed  at  the  bottom  of 
the  gardens,  but  with  a  wall  between,  less  high  than 
the  other  bounding  walls,  but  quite  high  enough  to 
shut  out  the  inmates  from  the  view  of  fishermen  or 
boat-passengers. 

Very  tall  and  very  grim  looked  those  same  walls  to 
Caroline,  not  to  say  to  Mr.  Darpent,  and  they  squeezed 
each  other's  hands,  almost  as  if  he  expected  to  be 
shut  up,  while  Madame  de  Nidemerle  rattled  on  about 
the  dear  nuns  and  how  happy  she  had  been  there. 
She  nodded  to  the  lay  sister  who  came  to  the  entrance 
of  the  outer  court  and  peeped  out  at  a  little  window 
in  a  huge  nailed  door  under  a  ponderous  arch. 

"  Good  day,  Sister  Anne,  I  have  brought  you  a  new 
pensionnaire.  Run  and  tell  the  ladies ;  only  first  you 
may  let  us  in  —  you  know  me  well." 

"Ah,  madame,  indeed,  I  fly." 

She  first,  however,  unlocked  the  gate,  and  the  car- 
riage rolled  in  at  the  great  paved  courtyard,  and  up 
to  another  door,  where  a  nun  in  black  hood,  white 
veil,  and  scapulary  and  dress  of  dark  blue,  was  listen- 
ing to  her,  and  a  young  girl,  with  hair  tied  with  blue, 

23 


24  CAROLINE'S   DEFIANCE  part  i 

was  peeping  behind  her.  The  girl  was  promptly  sent 
off  running  on  a  message,  while  the  portress  greeted 
Madame  de  Mdenierle,  and  the  doors  of  the  house 
and  of  the  carriage  were  opened. 

Madame  embraced  the  portress,  and  all  were  ad- 
mitted into  the  parlour,  where  there  was  not  much 
furniture  on  the  parquet  floor,  only  a  table  with  a 
paper-case  and  inkstand,  and  a  cross  on  the  mantel- 
shelf, while  prints,  chiefly  of  martyrdoms,  hung  round 
the  wainscoted  walls.  One  side  had  a  panel  fitted 
with  wide-open  bars,  the  grille,  at  which  the  English 
Squire  looked  with  some  awe. 

Presently,  however,  from  another  door  two  girls, 
one  a  little  older,  the  other  a  little  younger  than 
Caroline,  in  dark,  stuff  dresses  and  black  aprons,  one 
trimmed  with  red,  the  other  with  white,  like  the  rib- 
bons in  their  hair,  came  forward. 

"Maman,  Maman,"  they  cried,  while  she  embraced 
them  fondly.  "  Melanie,  my  dear ;  Cecile,  my  sweet. 
Welcome  Monsieur  votre  oncle  and  your  new  compan- 
ion, your  cousin." 

Each  made  a  graceful  curtsey  to  Mr.  Darpent,  and 
then  proceeded  to  embrace  Caroline,  who  was  rather 
taken  by  surprise,  and  stood,  shy  and  awkward,  while 
they  declared  themselves  transported  with  joy  to 
receive  their  cousin. 

Then,  on  the  other  side  of  the  grating,  the  Mother 
Superior  appeared,  not  at  all  the  dignified  and  stately 
dame  for  whom  Mr.  Darpent  was  prepared,  but  a  lit- 
tle, bright,  black-eyed,  eager-faced  creature,  evidently 
a  capital  woman  of  business,  with  whom  there  was  a 
most  affectionate  greeting  as  of  old  intimates. 

Caroline  was  introduced  and  was  welcomed  as  a 
dear  daughter,  and  the  two  cousins  were  sent  to  in- 


chap,  in  THE   CONVENT  25 

troduce  her  to  her  companions,  and  to  fetch  their 
work  to  ex  1  libit  to  their  mother.  Then  there  was  a 
refection,  gouter,  or  luncheon,  served  np,  of  the  most 
dainty  and  delicate  description,  though  Mr.  Darpent's 
English  appetite,  after  his  dejeuner  on  small  cotelettes 
and  salads,  could  not  help  longing  for  something  solid 
that  he  could  understand;  nor,  indeed,  could  he  follow 
or  fully  comprehend  the  rapid  French  of  the  two 
ladies,  though  he  knew  enough  to  be  aware  that  the 
gossip  exchanged  was  fully  equal  in  quantity  to  and 
was  far  more  in  rapidity  than  that  which  his  own 
good  woman  exchanged  with  her  neighbours  over  a 
"dish  of  tea." 

He  did  not  go  away  quite  happy,  nor  quite  con- 
vinced that  he  had  done  the  best  for  his  brother's 
child ;  but,  poor  man,  what  could  he  do  in  the  face 
of  his  wife  ?  He  had  given  her  away,  and  all  he  could 
do  was  to  forget  all  about  her  as  soon  as  he  could. 

Convents  had,  a  few  generations  ago,  in  the  days 
of  Madame  de  Chantal  and  Madame  de  Maintenon, 
been  made  in  many  instances  admirable  places  of 
education.  Madame  de  Maintenon's  system  for  St. 
Cyr  is  worthy  of  study  for  all  concerned  with  girls, 
and  her  plans  had  been  adopted  in  many  nunneries. 
But  machinery  slackens  without  living  and  enthu- 
siastic agency,  and  the  more  considerate  ladies  of  the 
early  times  of  Louis  XVI.  were  beginning  to  question 
whether  the  best  training  for  their  daughters  could 
be  obtained  from  women  who  in  general  had  not  the 
slightest  experience  of  family  life,  not  even  of  their 
own  childhood,  but  had  been  pensionnaires  from  in- 
fancy, and  nuns  because  they  could  not  be  conven- 
iently disposed  of  otherwise,  taking  the  care  of  the 
young  girls  in  rotation,  without  any  special  fitness. 


26  CAROLINE'S   DEFIANCE  part  i 

Thoughtful  mothers  and  readers  of  Rousseau  had 
begun  to  keep  their  daughters  at  home,  though  this 
involved  the  sacrifice  of  society,  or  else  introduced 
the  child  to  the  world  much  too  early,  since  there 
was  no  idea  of  a  maiden  being  left  to  herself  for  a 
moment.  The  convents,  however,  remained  the  fa- 
vourite boarding-schools  for  all  the  daughters  who 
were  to  be  kept  off  their  parents'  hands  till  their 
marriage,  and  as  this  comprehended  most  of  the  fash- 
ionable society  of  Paris,  they  continued  to  be  full. 

So  Caroline  found  herself  introduced  to  a  lively 
band  of  some  three  and  twenty  girls,  superintended 
by  a  good-natured  old  lady,  who,  if  the  truth  must 
be  told,  let  her  pensionnaires  do  pretty  much  as  they 
pleased,  provided  they  comported  themselves  like 
well-bred  ladies  at  table,  at  church,  and  in  public 
generally. 

They  were  divided  into  three  classes,  and  all  dressed 
alike,  except  that  the  little  ones  wore  white  trimmings, 
the  middle  ones  red,  the  elders,  les  grandes,  blue. 
Each  class  had  a  superintendent,  who  watched  over 
the  lessons,  reading  the  simplest  books  —  compiled 
and  weeded  for  them  a  hundred  years  before  —  and 
learning  a  few  other  easy  studies,  among  them,  and 
of  great  importance,  le  blason,  or  heraldry,  which 
really  was  not  useless  in  after-life,  since  it  enabled 
them  to  recognise  any  sedan-chair,  carriage,  or  livery 
of  the  grand  monde.  Their  breviaries  and  the  Lives 
of  the  Saints  were  their  religious  books,  but  not  much 
handled.  There  was  a  library,  and  the  convent  had 
once  been  inclined  to  Jansenism,  and  the  bishop  on 
his  last  visitation  had  sealed  up  all  the  translations 
of  the  works  of  St.  Augustine,  and  decidedly  dis- 
couraged study  of  any  kind,  except  the  Lives  of  the 


chap,   in  THE   CONVENT  27 

Saints  and  UHistoire  Sainte,  as  prepared  for  the  con- 
ventual reading  of  the  pensionnaires.  Nobody  did 
read,  in  fact,  but  Sister  de  St.  Jean  Baptiste,  an  old 
nun,  who  loved  U  Imitation  and  other  books  in  the 
library,  and  Sister  de  St.  Hilaire,  a  much  younger 
nun,  who  somehow  had  books  smuggled  in  from  out- 
side. 

Caroline's  English  Bible  and  Prayer-book  disap- 
peared with  her  ordinary  wardrobe,  when  she  was 
put  into  the  uniform  of  the  second  class,  and,  in  fact, 
she  did  not  trouble  herself  much  about  the  loss  ;  it 
was  recently  too  much  connected  with  Aunt  Darpent, 
and  her  father's  big  books  were  safe  at  Walwyn. 
Controversy  had  not  dawned  on  her  mind,  and  when 
she  was  walked  into  chapel,  the  services  and  surround- 
ings recalled  her  mother  and  Zelie. 

Music  and  dancing  lessons  were  given  from  without, 
and  "  les  grandes  "  took  it  in  turns,  a  pair  at  a  time, 
to  assist  the  Sister  Sacristan  in  the  care  of  the  orna- 
ments of  the  chapel,  the  Soeur  Lingere  in  the  superin- 
tendence of  the  linen  of  the  establishment,  the  Mena- 
gere  in  kitchen  and  confectionery  work,  the  portresses 
in  taking  messages  —  the  occupation  most  esteemed 
of  all.  Needlework  and  embroidery  were  also  well 
taught,  and  the  girls  were  generally  turned  out  ex- 
cellent and  accomplished  housewives,  whatever  else 
they  were  taught  or  not  taught. 

Indeed,  on  the  whole  the  influence  was  good,  al- 
though some  of  the  management  was  very  peculiar. 

On  going  into  the  refectory  with  her  cousins,  Caro- 
line was  amazed  to  see  a  little  one  of  the  white 
division  set  apart  with  an  enormous  pair  of  ears,  cut 
out  in  grey  paper,  erected  on  either  side  of  her  head, 
and  Melanie  whispered  — 


28  CAROLINE'S   DEFIANCE  part  i 

"  Poor  little  thing,  elle  a  menti." 

Then  Cecile  added,  "  Darpent,  my  dear " 

"  Darpent !  —  why  do  you  call  me  so  ?  "  exclaimed 
Caroline.     "  It  is  like  the  men  on  board  ship." 

"  No  one  uses  the  baptismal  name,"  replied  Me- 
lanie. 

"Yes,  one  does,"  added  her  sister,  "but  she  is 
Polish,  with  a  name  all  zy's  and  sh's,  which  no  one 
can  pronounce,  so  she  is  Mademoiselle  Ludmille." 

"True;  but  thou,  my  cousin,  must  be  Darpent. 
I  am  Nidemerle  —  Merle,  if  thou  wilt,  among  our- 
selves —  and  my  sister  is  Bellaise." 

"  Mademoiselle  is  too  long  to  utter  each  time,"  said 
Cecile  de  Bellaise;  "and  I  know  we  shall  be  true 
friends.     Is  it  not  so,  my  sweet  Darpent  ?  " 

So  Caroline  was  kindly  welcomed,  and  she  did  not 
meet  with  less  courtesy  from  the  other  girls,  espe- 
cially from  "les  rouges,"  with  whom  she  was  placed, 
and  to  whom  Cecile  belonged. 

They  were  merry,  joyous  girls,  under  very  slight 
control,  as  long  as  they  behaved  well  when  in  sight, 
and  to  Caroline,  who  had  been  used  to  nothing  but 
the  society  of  boys  and  men,  the  free  intercourse  with 
creatures  of  her  own  kind  was  at  first  almost  intoxi- 
cating. The  girls  were  good  listeners,  and  her  stories 
of  her  own  adventures,  and  the  yarns  she  had  picked 
up,  were  perfect  fairy  tales  to  them,  and  they  would 
hang  round  her  in  the  garden,  or  cluster  about  her  in 
the  long  evenings  in  rapt  attention,  though  sometimes 
there  would  be  a  little  quarrel  when  she  exalted  the 
English  flag. 

"  Ah,  if  a  French  ship  had  been  there  !  " 

"  The  fleur-de-lys  would  soon  have  been  lowered !  " 

"  No,  no  ;  Frenchmen  never  surrender  !  " 


chap,   in  THE   CONVENT  29 

"  Do  not  they  ?  How  about  LaHogue,  and  Ushant, 
and  Quiberon  Bay,  and " 

"  All !  deafen  me  not  with  your  names.  It  is  very 
impolite.     I  know  the  French  flag  never  gives  way." 

"  And  I  know  that  we  can  make  it  always  strike. 
My  father  was  in  the  fight  off  Cape  Francois,  where 
seven  French  ships  were  beaten  by  three  English. 
What  do  you  say  to  that,  mademoiselle  ?  " 

"  I  say  that  you  are  a  vilaine,  naughty  English- 
woman, whom  nothing  will  convince." 

This  was  in  such  a  scream  as  to  bring  ma  Sceur  St. 
Martin  on  the  scene,  demanding  what  was  the-  matter, 
and  just  in  time,  for  the  young  ladies  were  on  the 
point  of  tearing  each  other's  hair. 

Each  shrieked  out  at  the  top  of  their  voices,  and  so 
did  all  the  rest  of  "  les  rouges,"  but  by  and  by,  through 
the  babel,  it  was  known  that  Mademoiselle  Darpent 
had  been  so  arrogant  as  to  maintain  that  the  French 
flag  always  was  lowered  before  the  English,  which 
was  preposterous,  and  Mademoiselle  de  Solivet  had 
only  maintained  the  honour  of  the  nation. 

"  And  falsely,"  broke  out  Caroline. 

Whereupon  Sceur  St.  Martin  became  extremely 
shocked. 

"  It  is  impoliteness  —  brutal  impoliteness,"  she  said. 
"  Mademoiselle  Darpent  must  apologise." 

"  Apologise  !  Never,  when  the  British  navy  is  in- 
sulted!" cried  Caroline,  stamping  her  foot.  "They 
ought  to  apologise  to  me." 

"  Mademoiselle,  this  is  out  of  all  rules.  I  must 
send  you  to  penitence  in  your  cell,  and  make  you 
fast  on  bread  and  water,  unless  you  will  beg  the 
other  demoiselles'  pardon." 

k-  Xever  !     It  would  be  lowering  the  flag." 


30  CAROLINE'S   DEFIANCE  part  i 

So  Caroline  walked  off,  holding  her  head  very  high, 
to  her  tiny  compartment,  where  she  sat  brooding  on  the 
possibility  of  sending  a  letter  to  her  uncle,  to  tell  him 
that  the  English  were  insulted  in  her  person ;  but  she 
had  absolutely  nothing  to  write  with,  unless  —  but 
that  was  only  in  case  of  extremity  —  her  own  blood. 
But  even  with  that  resource,  she  had  no  paper,  and  no 
means  of  sending  the  letter.  Then  she  thought  of 
escape,  and  struggled  with  the  window,  which  was 
apparently  never  opened ;  and  when  at  last  she  was 
able  to  crane  out  her  head,  she  did  indeed  see  cornice 
and  spout  enough  for  her  sailor-foot  to  use  in  the 
descent,  but  it  would  have  been  only  into  the  convent 
garden,  and  though  she  might  there,  by  the  help  of 
the  trees,  have  climbed  to  the  top  of  the  wall,  what 
could  she  then  do  ?  If  she  reached  her  aunt's  house, 
it  would  only  be  to  be  sent  ignominiously  back  to  the 
convent,  and  without  money  even  her  ardour  could 
not  reach  England  alone. 

A  lay  sister  opened  the  door  to  bring  her  refection  of 
bread  and  water,  and  to  ask  whether  she  would  apolo- 
gise and  submit;  but  the  honour  of  the  British  flag  and 
of  her  own  father  were  at  stake,  and  she  shook  her  head. 

When  she  had  eaten  her  scanty  meal,  she  amused 
herself  with  making  a  plan  of  the  battle  off  Cape 
Francois  with  the  very  scanty  appliances  at  her  dis- 
posal —  such  as  her  brush  and  combs,  a  piece  of  soap, 
very  small  and  scented,  her  shoes  and  —  when  driven 
hard  to  make  out  ten  ships  —  her  garters  and  stock- 
ings rolled  up ;  and  these  contrivances,  and  the  vari- 
ous manoeuvres  she  made  them  execute,  occupied  her 
so  well  that  she  had  hardly  taken  the  last  French 
ship  before  the  door  was  opened,  and  Sister  St.  Hilaire 
came  in  with  — 


chap,  in  THE   CONVENT  31 

"  Well,  my  child,  I  trust  you  are  in  a  better  frame. 
But"  —  in  amaze  —  "what  is  this  demenagement  V 

"  I  will  show  you,  Sister.  See  here.  This  soap-dish 
is  my  father's  ship  the  Vanquisher;  this  slipper  is  the 
Bienvenue.     This  is  the  harbour." 

"  Peace,  peace  with  all  this  folly,  child !  "  exclaimed 
the  nun,  kicking  the  Vanquisher  out  of  the  way  with 
her  foot.  "Put  your  room  in  order,  and  make  your 
amende,  and  the  Mother  will  forgive  you,  as  a  pen- 
ance." 

"Never,"  cried  Caroline,  with  clasped,  not  to  say 
clenched,  hands.  "Nothing  will  ever  make  me  say 
what  is  not  true,  or  that  England  and  my  father, 
the  Admiral,  have  ever  been  beaten  by  you  French." 

Soeur  St.  Hilaire  really  believed  that  the  French 
were  invincible,  and  she  had  not  the  wit  to  see  that 
the  national  question  had  better  be  set  aside,  and  the 
refractory  pupil  simply  attacked  on  the  score  of  impo- 
liteness ;  so,  after  more  wrangling,  she  retired,  shut- 
ting her  up  for  the  night  as  hopelessly  headstrong. 
And  it  was  the  same  the  next  morning.  Caroline  was 
absolutely  resolved  that  no  word  should  concede  that 
English  ships  had  been  beaten,  and,  in  fact,  she  ex- 
pected to  tire  out  the  nuns  and  gain  the  victory ;  so, 
with  morning  energy,  she  shut  her  lips  obstinately 
against  Sceur  St.  Hilaire,  who  came  to  see  what  could 
be  done  by  persuasion  and  coaxing,  but,  as  to  the 
matter  of  fact,  was  quite  as  firm  in  her  belief  of  her 
countrymen's  victory  as  the  little  Englishwoman  could 
be. 

However,  at  about  noonday,  when  very  weary  of 
her  imprisonment,  Caroline  was  summoned  to  see 
Monsieur  l'Abbe  de  Pont  de  Loire,  the  spiritual,  and 
often  the  temporal,  adviser  of  the  convent.     He  was  a 


32  CAROLINE'S    DEFIANCE  part  i 

good  man,  but  a  man  of  the  world,  and  knew  a  good 
deal  better  than  the  excellent  ladies  how  affairs  had 
really  gone  at  sea,  and  his  metis  elle  a  raison  had 
shocked  them  dreadfully,  less  for  their  own  injustice, 
or  for  the  national  glory,  than  because  the  naughty 
girl  would  be  maintained  in  her  arrogance  and  con- 
tempt of  authority.  He  had  undertaken  to  arrange 
this  for  them,  and  when  Caroline  came  down  and 
made  a  curtsey,  with  an  odd,  half -sullen,  half-resolute 
face,  she  was  quite  startled  by  being  accosted  with  — 

"  Here  is  my  daughter  who  stands  up  for  her  father 
and  her  nation." 

She  felt  as  if  the  wall  she  was  going  to  batter  had 
suddenly  fallen  down  before  her. 

"Ah!  Monsieur  FAbbe,  you  know  better ;  you  would 
not  have  me  deny  the  truth,  and  the  honour  of  my 
father  and  his  flag,  to  please  these  senseless  women." 

"  Hush,  my  child.  It  is  only  in  nature  and  in  true 
nobility  that  each  should  defend  his  own  country,  but 
it  need  not  be  done  with  bitterness  and  violence." 

"They  would  not  believe  me.  They  made  me 
angry." 

Nevertheless  the  Abbe  succeeded  in  getting  from 
her  an  avowal  that  she  had  been  uncivil  and  violent. 
She  was  really  tired  out  with  the  vehemence  of  her 
resistance,  and  with  her  long  fast  and  imprisonment, 
and  not  sorry  to  be  able  to  give  way,  provided  she 
had  not  to  compromise  the  honour  of  the  British 
flag,  nor  to  confess  that  her  father  and  his  Van- 
quisher had  ever  been  defeated.  So  she  agreed  to 
apologise  for  having  spoken  rudely  and  contradicted 
flatly,  and  the  good-natured  nuns,  who  did  not  quite 
know  how  to  act  in  case  of  persistent  rebellion. 
were  willing  to  accept  her  submission  graciously. 


CHAPTEK   IV 

IN    THE    WORLD 

Years  had  gone  on,  and  Caroline  Darpent  was 
among  the  "  blue  "  section  of  the  pensionnaires,  and 
so  much  habituated  to  the  companionship  and  dis- 
cipline of  the  convent,  that  the  time  when  she  had 
sailed  with  her  father,  or  when  she  had  romped  with 
her  cousins  at  Walwyn  and  spoken  English  seemed 
like  a  dream,  or,  indeed,  recurred  as  a  dream,  when 
the  wind  was  high,  and  she  fancied  it  whistling  in 
the  shrouds,  and  woke  to  realise  slowly  that  she  was 
in  the  partitioned  dormitory.  Sometimes,  too,  would 
come  a  deadly  weariness  of  the  monotonous  sound, 
and  of  female  society,  and  a  longing  to  "break  her 
mind,"  as  it  were,  against  something  harder,  rougher, 
and  in  fact  masculine  —  something  not  so  petty  as 
all  the  interests  and  avocations  around  seemed  to 
her;  and  even  for  a  few  moments  a  kind  of  frenzy 
against  restraint  within  walls,  and  a  longing  for  the 
open  sea  and  sky  would  seize  her.  In  this  mood  she 
contrived  to  climb  a  tall  lime-tree  in  the  garden,  and 
get  a  view  of  the  river  and  the  country  beyond ;  but 
this  was  discovered,  and  she  was  punished  for  u  making 
a  scandal." 

There  were  merry  times  when  the  married  pupils 
were  invited  to  dances,  and  came,  mostly  joyous 
u  33 


34  CAROLINE'S  DEFIANCE  part  i 

young  girls  delighting  in  their  emancipation,  though 
still  under  the  rule  of  their  "belles-meres,"  and  petting 
and  even  patronising  their  old  mistresses,  the  nuns, 
as  Avell  as  their  younger  sisters  and  comrades,  whom 
they  dazzled  with  accounts  of  the  balls  and  soirees. 
Once  it  was  so  delightful  that  the  girls  could  not  part 
at  night,  and  three  of  les  mariees  remained,  hidden  in 
the  dormitory,  where  they  talked  and  were  made  much 
of  half  the  night,  exultant  in  their  naughtiness.  But 
that  was  not  by  any  means  the  frame  of  mind  of  the 
Abbess  when  they  were  discovered  in  the  morning. 
She  sent  a  note  to  each  of  the  three  mothers-in-law, 
who  arrived  in  full  state,  and  carried  off  the  three 
culprits  in  a  very  limp  and  dejected  condition. 

Belles-meres  were  more  the  subject  of  speculation 
to  the  young  pensionnaires  than  the  future  husbands. 
These  three  visitors  had  told  such  different  stories. 

One  had  a  dear,  good-natured  mother-in-law,  who 
would  let  her  do  anything  she  chose,  and  attended 
to  her  very  little,  being  in  fact  quite  taken  up  with 
the  philosophers  and  the  politics  of  the  encyclopedists 
and  the  Academy. 

Another  had  a  belle-mere,  belle,  indeed,  who  had  not 
done  being  a  youthful  beauty  herself,  and  was  fright- 
fully jealous  of  her  son's  wife,  trying  to  keep  her  out 
of  sight,  and  to  make  her  dress  unbecomingly,  and 
scolding  her  whenever  any  one  talked  to  her. 

The  third,  who  had  been  dragged  into  the  frolic 
without  understanding  what  was  going  on,  and  was 
the  only  one  who  showed  any  sorrow,  had  a  really 
kind  and  conscientious  mother-in-law,  and  was  very 
happy.  Her  young  husband  was  en  garnison,  and  she 
had  hardly  seen  him  since  the  first  few  days ;  but  his 
mother  had  treated  her  as  her  own  daughter,  taught 


chap,  iv  IN   THE    WORLD  35 

her  kindly  household  ways,  introduced  her  to  society 
with  tender,  sympathetic  care  and  protection,  and 
made  her  house  a  thoroughly  happy  home  to  her. 

"All  turns  on  the  belle-mere,"  was  well  known  to 
the  girls,  and  when  it  came  to  the  turn  of  Melanie  de 
Nidemerle,  and  she  was  told  that  the  next  day  she 
would  have  to  come  down  to  the  parlour  to  see  her 
mother  and  Madame  la  Comtesse  de  Limours,  great 
was  the  excitement.  Her  parents  had  long  ago  arrived 
before  Melanie  was  dressed,  very  passively,  in  the 
white  dress  and  blue  ribbons  that  she  wore  at  festi- 
vals, and  instructed  how  to  comport  herself.  She  lis- 
tened in  a  dazed,  dreamy  sort  of  way,  not  half  so  eager 
as  the  population  around,  who  were  wild  with  curios- 
ity. There  was  one  window  that  looked  out  on  the 
court,  and  here  every  available  pane  was  filled  with 
young  heads  in  tiers  one  above  the  other  —  kneeling 
on  the  sill,  standing  looking  over  the  heads  of  the 
first,  and  the  last  now  doing  their  best  to  peep  over, 
mounted  upon  chairs ! 

"  Hark !  is  that  the  carriage  ?  " 

"  No,  that  is  only  a  cart." 

"  There's  a  trampling." 

"  Depend  on  it  that  is  only  a  regiment  of  cavalry." 

Cavalry  could  be  seen  through  a  scratched  corner  of 
a  fan-light,  which  was  ordinarily  in  great  request,  but 
now  was  left  to  such  of  "  les  petites  "  as  chose  to  spy 
through  it,  and  one  of  whom  called  out,  "It's  out- 
riders ;  it  is  a  coach  and  six." 

Politeness  —  yes,  true  politeness  allowed  the  little 
ones  such  a  first  view  as  they  could  get  through  their 
small  post  of  observation,  and,  indeed,  the  coach  and 
six,  outriders  and  all,  soon  clattered  into  the  outer 
court,  and  the   coach  itself   came    forward   into   the 


36  CAROLINE'S   DEFIANCE  part  i 

inner  court  when  the  prime  moment  of  observation 
came. 

"  That  is  he  !     Oh !  his  perruque  !  " 

"  No ;  it  must  be  his  father ! " 

"  See,  he  is  handing  her  out." 

"Oh  !  the  belle-mere  !     Her  toupee  is  a  la  nymphe." 

"  And  what  a  brocade  !     How  it  glistens  !  " 

"  See  !  Ah !  that  must  be  her  son  —  lefutur.  White 
satin  —  ah,  that  is  appropriate !  But,  but  —  oh  horror  ! 
he  has  no  powder  !  " 

"  C'est  a  l'Anglais,  the  fashion  !  " 

"  But  to  come  wooing  without  powder !  "lis  dis- 
graceful." 

"How  could  his  mother  allow  it?  " 

"You  are  so  old-fashioned,  ma  mie.  This  is  the 
newest  mode." 

"  Ah !  ah !  men  will  come  next  to  woo  without 
shoes." 

"  Ah !  they  are  gone  while  you  were  quarrelling. 
Now  I  saw  him  bow  to  the  mother  portress,  d  ravir ! " 

There  was  no  more  to  be  seen  except  the  servants 
and  outriders,  enjoying  their  pourboire  in  the  court- 
yard ;  and  their  liveries  and  the  coats-of-arms  on  the 
doors  of  the  carriages  were  splendid  to  behold,  to  eyes 
accustomed  to  the  monastic  blacks,  greys,  and  blues. 

By  and  by  Melanie  and  Cecile  returned,  but  Melanie 
only  came  to  reclaim  her  own  possessions,  and  to  take 
leave  of  her  companions.  She  was  to  be  taken  to 
Paris  at  once  to  be  fitted  with  her  trousseau,  and  to 
sign  the  marriage  contract.  She  was  in  high  spirits. 
Madame  de  Limours  was  evidently  very  amiable,  the 
old  gentleman  already  called  her  " Ma  jille;"  and  as 
to  le  futur,  she  demurely  professed  to  have  barely 
seen  him,  but  no  doubt  he  was  "  tr&s  aimable  "  too ! 


chap,  iv  IN  THE    WORLD  37 

Then  came  an  eager  description  of  the  intended 
dresses,  and  how  Mademoiselle  Bertin  was  coming 
to  measure  her  that  very  evening.  But  messages 
hastening  her  movements  were  followed  by  floods  of 
tears  at  the  separation  from  her  sister  and  her  com- 
panions. Melanie  cried  in  the  embrace  of  each,  and 
of  all  the  nuns  in  turn,  and  they  wept  and  wailed  in 
response,  till- finally  their  sobs  were  suppressed  in  a 
general  rush  to  the  window,  to  see  the  departure  in 
Madame  de  Nidemerle's  carriage. 

They  had  a  fete  on  the  wedding-day,  and  once 
Melanie  came  to  see  them,  and  dilated  on  all  the 
gaieties  to  which  she  was  introduced,  and  the  witty 
conversations  she  heard.  This  small  peep  into  the 
great  world  filled  Caroline  with  a  vague  longing. 
She  was  seventeen  now,  one  of  the  eldest  of  the 
pensionnaires.  She  had  been  two  or  three  times 
through  all  the  various  practical  lessons  required  of 
them,  and  they  had  become  routine,  her  first  friends 
had  been  married  off,  and  she  was  becoming  extremely 
weary  of  her  monotonous  life,  and  thought  with  a  sort 
of  sick  dread  of  the  future,  and  of  being  consigned  to 
nothing  else  for  life.  The  recollection  of  her  full  joys 
as  a  sailor's  daughter  returned  upon  her  as  they  had 
scarcely  done  in  her  earlier  years,  and  the  longing  for 
the  midshipmen  who  had  been  her  playfellows,  the 
officers  who  had  been  kind  to  her,  and  the  very  sound 
of  the  rough  voices  that  would  not  talk  of  anything  but 
folly  and  pettiness.  She  yearned  for  change  and  the 
outer  world,  or  rather  the  outer  sea,  and  yet  she  had 
little  reasonable  hope,  for  she  did  not  believe  she  had 
any  portion  that  would  win  any  one  to  marry  her,  and 
no  one  could  take  her  for  love,  always  shut  up  where 
she  was,  never  seeing  any  man  except  the  old  Abbe. 


38  CAROLINE'S   DEFIANCE  part  i 

Then  she  began  to  wonder  whether  they  had  any  right 
to  keep  her,  and  all  the  spirit  of  the  British  navy 
began  to  rise  within  her  at  the  thought  of  captivity. 
In  this  mood  she  contrived  to  write  a  letter  to  her  Eng- 
lish uncle,  and  the  next  time  there  was  a  visit  from 
one  of  the  ex-pupils,  she  confided  it  to  her  to  be  posted. 

Time  went  on,  and  she  grew  more  and  more  anxious 
and  impatient,  as  the  possible  time  for  an  answer 
came,  and  no  letter.  There  were  only  too  many  prob- 
abilities :  her  friend  might  have  been  unable  to  send 
the  letter,  or  the  very  uncertain  post  might  have  mis- 
carried, or  Uncle  and  Aunt  Darpent  might  not  choose 
to  reply,  or,  if  they  had  done  so,  the  Abbess  might 
have  suppressed  the  letter.  She  grew  wild  sometimes 
as  she  lay  awake  in  her  bed,  above  all  when  some  ru- 
mour penetrated  the  convent  walls  that  France  had 
espoused  the  cause  of  a  revolt  in  America,  and  was  at 
war  with  England.  She  was  sure  there  must  be  vic- 
tories of  the  British  navy,  the  institution  which  she 
loved  beyond  all  others,  and  she  was  passionately 
grieved  at  being  debarred  from  all  knowledge.  It 
accounted  for  her  not  having  heard  from  her  uncle, 
and  she  felt  herself  almost  a  prisoner. 

Yet,  after  all,  a  change  came  at  last.  Soeur  St. 
Hilaire  came  and  announced  that  Mademoiselle  de 
Bellaise  and  Mademoiselle  Darpent  were  to  prepare 
themselves  to  be  fetched  away  from  the  convent  by 
Madame  la  Marquise  de  Xidemerle.  Their  amazement 
and  delight  were  great. 

"Is  there  not  a  marriage  for  me  —  for  us?"  de- 
manded Cecile,  for  leaving  a  convent  without  an 
intended  marriage  was  an  extraordinary  thing. 

"  I  believe  there  may  be.  I  can  hardly  believe  you 
would   be   summoned  away  otherwise,"  returned  the 


chap,  iv  IN  THE   WORLD  39 

Sister.  "Ah!  my  dear  children,  you  will  soon  be  in 
the  world.     Forget  not  all  that  you  have  learned  here." 

In  due  time  the  carriage  arrived.  The  young  ladies 
were  summoned  downstairs,  they  bade  adieu  to  their 
companions,  and  were  received  by  the  Marquise  with 
all  her  wonted  fervour. 

The  full  truth,  which  she  confided  to  the  Superior, 
though  she  would  never  have  thought  of  doing  so  to 
the  jeunes  files,  was  that  Monsieur  le  Baron  de  Henis- 
son,  whom  his  own  family  had  designated  for  Cecile, 
had  been  travelling  in  England,  and  had  become 
touched  with  Anglo-mania  and  foolish  ideas,  "which 
had  not  common  sense,"  and  he  had  absolutely  refused 
to  give  his  hand  to  any  young  lady  whom  he  had  never 
seen  except  through  the  grate  of  a  convent,  and  in- 
sisted on  having  the  opportunity  of  making  some  sort 
of  acquaintance  with  his  bride.  Ideas !  as  the  lady 
and  the  nun  agreed,  throwing  up  their  hands  and  their 
chins  at  the  folly.  This  being  the  case,  it  was  advis- 
able to  take  Caroline  at  the  same  time,  to  serve  as  a 
companion,  and  likewise  because  she  had  so  small  a 
portion  that  it  was  unlikely  that  she  could  be  suitably 
disposed  of  in  marriage  unless  some  one  free  to  act 
for  himself  was  struck  with  her  beauty.  Besides,  not 
•only  was  it  evident  that  she  had  no  vocation  for  the 
cloister,  but  it  was  probable  that  her  Protestant  uncle 
might  scruple  at  paying  her  dowry  there.  The  nuns 
were  not  sorry  to  be  rid  of  her,  for  they  had  a  strong 
instinct  that  there  was  something  in  her  that  did  not 
bend  to  the  discipline  of  the  convent,  and  which  might 
break  out  at  any  time. 

So,  little  understanding  all  this,  she  and  Cecile  were 
packed  into  the  coach  with  the  stately  marchioness,  to 
rattle  over  the  paved  streets  of  Paris. 


40  CAROLINE'S   DEFIANCE  part  i 

The  first  person  she  met  on  descending  at  her  aunt's 
house  was  Zelie,  her  wool  showing  whiter  under  the 
red  and  yellow  turban,  by  which  Madame  la  Marquise 
chose  to  make  her  negroes  picturesque.  Poor  Zelie 
was  in  an  ecstasy,  though  hardly  able  to  believe  that  her 
own  picaninny  was  the  same  as  the  tall,  slender  young 
demoiselle  who  threw  her  arms  around  her  neck  in  a 
transport  of  joy  and  affection. 

The  marchioness  interrupted  the  exchange  of  caresses 
and  tender  epithets  by  ushering  both  the  girls  into 
her  own  apartment,  which  was  spread  with  materials, 
and  where  a  dressmaker  was  already  waiting  to  give 
her  aid  and  judgment  on  what  would  be  most  becom- 
ing to  the  jeunes  Jilles,  yet  not  be  too  simple,  nor 
seem  to  imitate  the  fashion  of  the  "  American  Quack- 
ker "  —  a  creature  of  whom  Caroline  heard  for  the 
first  time.  Zelie  was  allowed  to  hold  the  pins,  while 
madame,  her  own  woman,  and  the  modiste  consulted 
over  the  muslins,  taffetas,  and  brocade,  and  measured 
and  tried  colours  with  their  complexions,  and  debated 
vigorously  and  scientifically,  and  it  was  then  that 
Caroline  learnt  that  she  was  a  true  white  Ribaumont, 
with  the  same  pure  pink-and-white  complexion,  and 
hair  blonde  cendree, —  a  veritable  blonde  Anglaise,  and 
that  justice  might  be  done  to  her  uncommon  cast  of 
beauty. 

Truth  to  tell,  she  was  at  first  elated,  and  then 
pleased  by  the  varieties  of  fine  clothes,  but  ere  long 
she  was  dreadfully  tired  of  the  discussions  over  her, 
and  almost  regretted  her  convent  when  she  found  she 
was  not  to  be  seen  by  the  outer  world  till  her  dresses 
were  finished,  that  she  might  burst  on  the  beholders 
in  full  radiance. 

However,  Melanie  came  to  see  them,  and  brought 


chap,  iv  IN   THE    WORLD  41 

her  baby,  for  she  stirred  nowhere  without  him,  and 
had  an  elegant  scarf  to  support  him  slung  round  her 
neck.  Such  was  the  new  fashion  in  compliance  with 
Rousseau's  teaching. 

"Ah,"  said  her  mother,  "how  the  world  alters!  I 
scarcely  saw  either  of  you  before  you  were  sent  off  to 
be  nursed  in  the  country.  But  then  you  were  only 
girls  !     And  this  is  a  son  !  " 

So  the  grandmother  timidly  took  the  child  in  her 
arms,  and  studied  his  charms  as  an  absolute  novelty; 
while  the  young  Madame  de  Limours  chattered  away, 
and  assured  Cecile  that  she  would  find  M.  de  Henisson 
entirely  charming,  and  delightfully  full  of  new  ideas. 
He  had  even  been  at  a  fox-chase  in  England ! 

The  Limours  family  were  a  good  deal  imbued  with 
the  new  opinions,  and  Melanie  was  urgent  with  her 
mother  to  bring  the  two  young  girls  to  her  mother-in- 
law's  reception  that  evening,  when  little  of  dress  or 
gaiety  was  required,  but  all  that  was  most  distin- 
guished was  collected. 

"  There  are  new  notions  of  what  is  distinguished," 
exclaimed  Madame  de  Nidemerle.  "  To  my  mind,  it 
is  an  assembly  of  mere  roturiers " 

"  Ah !  but  that  the  roturiers  should  be  there  at  all 
proves  their  genius,  maman,"  replied  Melanie. 

"  Genius  is  seldom  noble,"  said  the  mother,  holding 
up  her  chin  scornfully. 

"  So  much  the  worse  for  the  noble,  as  Monsieur  mon 
Mari  would  say,"  laughed  Melanie.  "Come,  dear 
maman,  be  persuaded.  We  shall  no  doubt  have  the 
Henissons  there." 

"  That  renders  it  impossible,  when  these  poor  chil- 
dren have  no  clothes." 

"  Ah !  dear  mamma,  depend  upon  it  Alexis  de  He- 


42  CAROLINE'S   DEFIANCE  part  i 

nisson  is  ten  times  more  likely  to  admire  her  in  her 
simple  pensionnaire's  dress  than  in  hoop  and  powder. 
It  is  the  way  yonng  girls  go.  I  engage  that  yon  will 
see  Mademoiselle  Necker  in  jnst  snch  a  dress !  " 

"  The  daughter  of  a  Swiss  banker  !  That  she  should 
set  the  fashion  !  " 

In  spite  of  her  disgust,  the  counsels  of  her  daughter, 
or  perhaps  reluctance  to  spend  a  solitary  evening,  pre- 
vailed, and  the  two  girls,  in  their  convent  white  gala 
dresses,  with  unpowdered  hair  only  adorned  by  a 
snood  of  ribbon  —  Caroline's  blue,  and  Cecile's  rose- 
coloured  —  were  allowed  to  go  to  the  salon  of  Madame 
la  Comtesse  de  Limours. 

As  they  walked  in  behind  their  chaperon,  they  saw 
a  dazzling  scene  of  glistening  brocade  dresses,  pow- 
dered heads,  waving  feathers,  brilliant  velvet  coats, 
while  Melanie  and  her  mother-in-law  came  forward  to 
welcome  them.  There  was  little  apparatus  at  the 
party :  one  or  two  tables  where  eau  sucree  and  little 
biscuits  were  provided,  and  pretty  boxes  of  sweet- 
meats ;  but  people  came  not  to  eat  but  to  talk ;  and 
there  were  seats  arranged  so  as  to  make  places  for 
conversation,  and  screens  here  and  there,  but  the  seats 
were  very  uncompromising  chairs,  for  nobody  would 
have  thought  of  lounging  in  public,  and  there  was  no 
provision  in  the  way  of  entertainment  except  one 
book  of  prints  upon  a  stand,  no  piano,  no  attempt  at 
music. 

Yet  all  was  one  buzz  of  conversation,  or  rather 
one  outcry,  in  the  shrill  French  voices  that  have  never 
learnt  that  low  tones  are  "  an  excellent  thing  in 
woman,"  but  loud  as  they  were,  had  a  certain  grace 
and  refinement  in  their  emphasised  accents. 

"Ah!  my  angel,  they  are  a  ravir"  cried  the  elder 


chap,  iv  IN  THE    WORLD  43 

Madame  cle  Liinours.  "  Their  simplicity  is  exquisite. 
Thou  needst  not  have  feared." 

Then,  when  bows  had  been  exchanged  with  the  two 
Messieurs  de  Limours,  one  in  crimson  and  gold,  the 
other  in  the  splendid  blue  uniform  of  the  Body  Guard, 
Melanie  said,  "  I  will  find  you  a  companion " ;  and 
she  brought  them  to  a  row  of  chairs,  where  some  ladies 
and  gentlemen  were  in  eager  conversation,  and  a  girl, 
a  little  younger  than  themselves,  very  plainly  dressed, 
not  handsome,  but  with  a  wonderful  pair  of  eyes,  sat 
bolt  upright  upon  a  stool. 

"  Madame  —  Madame  JSTecker,"  said  Melanie,  "  allow 
me  to  present  to  Mademoiselle  Germaine  my  young 
sister  and  her  cousin." 

There  was  an  exchange  of  courtesies,  and  Caroline 
and  Cecile  found  themselves  seated  on  either  side  of 
Germaine  Necker  and  deserted  by  the  sister. 

Germaine  did  not  pay  much  attention  to  them ;  she 
was  listening  with  all  her  ears  to  a  discussion  that 
was  going  on  upon  some  subject  that  seemed  a  mere 
bewilderment  to  the  newcomers,  nay,  sometimes  put- 
ting in  her  word,  and,  as  it  seemed  to  the  two  girls, 
obtaining  real  attention  and  interest,  as  if  what  she 
said  was  brilliant  and  to  the  purpose ;  but  if  she  leant 
forward  in  the  eagerness  of  speaking,  her  mother  was 
sure  to  say,  "  Germaine,  redressez-vous." 

Cecile  was  soon  tired  of  listening,  and  began  to 
gaze  round  at  the  younger  men,  who  were  half-listen- 
ing to  the  discourse,  presently  deciding  that  one  with 
a  feuille-morte  and  blue  and  silver  coat,  and  light- 
coloured  eyes  with  thick  black  lashes,  must  be  Mon- 
sieur de  Henisson. 

Caroline,  on  the  other  hand,  was  struck  by  a  figure 
in  a  plain  long  grey  coat,  with  his  brown  hair  coming 


44  CAROLINE'S   DEFIANCE  part  i 

over  Jiis  ears  and  unpowdered,  who  seemed  to  be 
laying  down  the  law  in  imperfect  French,  which  had 
an  English  ring  in  her  ears. 

When,  presently,  a  move  was  made,  the  elder 
Madame  de  Limours  coming  to  present  some  one 
to  him,  Caroline  eagerly  asked  Mademoiselle  Xecker 
if  that  gentleman  was  English. 

"Eh,  mademoiselle,  yon  do  not  know  the  great 
English,  or  rather  American,  envoy,  M.  Franklin  ?  " 

"  Ah !  I  have  heard  something.  Yon  will  tell  me, 
mademoiselle  !  Is  there  a  war  —  a  war  with  us,  with 
England  ?  " 

"  Yon  are  English,  then,  mademoiselle  ?  " 

"Yes,  the  daughter  of  an  Admiral.  I  only  came 
out  of  my  convent  to-day.     I  entreat  you  tell  me." 

"  Ah !  then  you  had  not  heard  that  the  American- 
English,  oppressed  and  taxed  beyond  all  bearing,  have 
risen  against  their  tyrants,  and  have  appealed  to  the 
French  nation  for  aid.  It  is  like  the  days  of  William 
Tell,"  she  cried,  as  her  eyes  lit  up  with  animation. 

"  They  have  rebelled  ?  "  said  Caroline. 

"If  you  call  it  rebellion  to  shake  off  an  unjust 
yoke.  The  young  Marquis  de  La  Fayette  did  not 
think  so.  He  left  his  home,  and  his  young  wife  — 
whom  I  know —  assisted  him  to  make  his  escape  and 
fight  in  the  cause  of  liberty." 

"My  father  would  say  it  was  in  the  cause  of  revolt," 
said  Caroline. 

"Injustice  and  oppression  justify  revolt,"  contended 
the  young  Swiss. 

"But  do  I  understand  that  there  is  a  war  on 
behalf  of  those  miserable  colonists  ? "  exclaimed 
Caroline. 

"Perhaps    Leopold    of    Austria   called    it   war   on 


chap,  iv  IN   THE    WORLD  45 

behalf  of   miserable   mountaineers/'    drily  responded 
Germaine. 

It  was  the  old  unanswerable  question  with  two 
sides,  and  in  after-years  Caroline  did  not  wonder  that 
she  had  been  unable  to  answer  Germaine,  Avhen  she 
identified  her  with  Madame  de  Stael.  And  just  then 
"  Germaine,  redressez-vous  "  broke  in  upon  the  conver- 
sation, and  Madame  de  Nidemerle  came  up  and  re- 
sumed the  care  of  her  young  ladies,  to  whom  she 
considered  Melanie  to  be  giving  too  much  liberty  to 
converse,  and  with  a  mere  little  roturiere,  a  banker's 
daughter. 


CHAPTEE   V 

THE    "  BELLE    POULE  " 

This  was  the  first  time  that  Caroline  really  knew 
of  the  American  war  of  independence,  or  of  the  part 
that  England  or  France  took  in  it.  She  was  on  the 
alert  to  hear  more  ;  but  this  was  not  an  easy  thing 
for  her  to  do,  for  the  jeune  file  was  not  supposed  to 
know  anything  of  politics,  and  newspapers,  such  as 
they  were,  were  prohibited  articles. 

Indeed,  her  mind  had  plenty  of  more  immediate 
occupation,  for  her  brocades  came  home,  and  her  hair 
was  dressed,  frizzled,  added  to,  pomaded,  powdered, 
and  built  up  into  a  terrible  structure,  on  which  was 
planted  a  whole  flower-garden  of  forget-me-nots  and 
hyacinths,  with  white  feathers  above.  It  was  com- 
plete before  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  then 
she  had  to  sit  motionless  in  the  powdering-closet, 
while  her  cousin  and  her  aunt  were  under  the  hands 
of  the  friseur.  Cecile  wore  a  head-dress  adorned  with 
little  fluttering  doves,  suspended  upon  wires,  and  her 
mother  a  still  more  imposing  fabric,  supposed  to  rep- 
resent the  landing  of  iEneas  in  the  Bay  of  Carthage. 

When  all  were  drawn  up  in  the  salon,  seated  upon 
the  great  black  gold  chairs,  to  receive  Madame  de 
Henisson   and   her   son,    as   well   as   a   considerable 

46 


chap,  v  THE    "BELLE   POULE  »  47 

party,  they  were  a  grand  spectacle,  with  the  Limours 
family,  equally  resplendent,  added  to  their  force. 

Melanie  came  in,  baby  and  all,  with  a  good  deal  of 
merriment,  and  sat  herself  down  between  her  sister 
and  cousin,  admiring  them  critically,  but  all  the  time 
chuckling  to  herself  with  a  good  deal  of  amusement, 
the  cause  of  which  she  chose  to  keep  to  herself.  The 
room  began  to  fill,  and  Monsieur  and  Madame  de 
Nidemerle  were  occupied  with  the  graces  of  their 
reception.  An  old  gentleman  in  a  brown-and-gold 
coat  came  near  and  began  to  talk  to  Melanie.  He 
was  one  of  those  whom  Caroline  had  met  at  Madame 
de  Limours',  and  when  he  began  to  talk  to  her,  she 
brightened  up,  and  answered  with  animation.  More- 
over, she  discovered  what  she  wished  so  much  to  know 
—  the  bearings  of  the  case  between  France  and  Eng- 
land —  and  she  showed  a  familiarity  with  naval  affairs 
and  with  practical  geography  which  amused  him  much ; 
and  her  face  was  full  of  life,  while  Cecile  sat,  grave 
and  sedate,  shy  and  stiff,  as  became  a  pensionnaire 
on  trial,  while  Madame  de  Henisson  and  Madame 
de  Nidemerle  talked  over  her  head,  and  the  young 
Henisson  with  the  Anglo-mania  wandered  near,  some- 
times talking  to  other  gentlemen,  sometimes  listening 
to  one  or  other  of  the  conversations. 

Melanie  de  Limours  seemed  extremely  diverted  and 
delighted  with  the  whole  evening,  laughing  over  it 
heartily  in  her  pretty  way,  and  declaring  that  little 
Caroline  had  made  a  conquest,  if  not  two  —  one  being 
of  the  old  Vicomte  de  Noirmont,  an  ancient  widower 
and  Chevalier  de  Saint  Louis,  who  could  do  whatever 
he  pleased;  and  the  other  —  no,  she  would  not  tell 
who  it  was  who  Avas  smitten,  but  she  laughed  the 
more. 


48  CAROLINE'S    DEFIANCE  part  i 

Madame  de  Nidemerle  was  a  good  deal  excited  by 
the  notion  of  the  Vicomte.  It  would  be  a  magnificent 
parti  for  Caroline  Darpent;  and,  after  a  few  years  of 
being  an  old  man's  darling,  she  would  be  free  to  amuse 
herself  and  wed  whom  she  pleased.  But  it  was  good 
taste  that  the  young  lady  should  be  wholly  uninformed 
of  her  suitors;  so  nothing  was  said  to  Caroline.  In- 
deed, the  mother  and  her  married  daughter  questioned 
whether,  having  made  the  impression  by  her  esprit, 
she  had  not  better  be  sent  back  to  her  convent  till  the 
preliminaries  were  arranged,  so  as  to  whet  the  ardour 
of  the  old  gentleman,  and  to  make  her  willing  on  any 
terms  to  return  to  the  world.  However,  this  plan  was 
put  out  of  the  question  by  an  outbreak  of  small-pox  in 
the  convent.  The  good  nuns  were  of  the  party  who 
held  inoculation  to  be  impious,  and  the  deadly  disease 
was  raging  amongst  them  with  the  utmost  virulence, 
so  that  Caroline's  return  was  impossible. 

Melanie  and  her  mother  were  closeted  for  a  long 
tete-a-tete,  the  upshot  of  which  was  that  Caroline  was 
to  go  back  with  her  cousin  and  become  a  guest,  with 
Zelie,  in  the  Hotel  de  Limours. 

"  You  see, "  Madame  de  Xidemerle  had  said,  "  thanks 
to  these  ridiculous  ideas  of  liberty  of  choice,  here  is 
that  foolish  young  Henisson  strangely  attracted  away 
from  Cecile  by  the  English  air  and  English  manners 
of  Caroline,  while  Cecile  remains  the  quiet  little  pen- 
sionnaire,  with  manners  comme  il  faut,  and  knows 
what  is  becoming  far  too  well  to  attempt  to  win 
him." 

"I  do  not  think  Caroline  intends  anything;  but  one 
must  allow  that  she  is  far  prettier  and  in  a  more 
uncommon  style  than  poor  Cecile,"  said  Melanie. 

"A  great  rosy-cheeked  shepherdess,  with  no  air, 


chap,  v  THE    " BELLE   POULE "  49 

only  fit  to  associate  with  her  father's  sailors,  after 
whom  she  pines." 

"She  really  cares  for  little  else." 

"Would  that  she  were  among  them  again.  I  am 
in  continual  dread  that  the  youth  may  be  insensate 
enough  to  speak  of  love  to  her,  and  then  who  can  guess 
what  the  effect  would  be!  And  when  the  good  old 
Noirmont  is  on  the  point  of  proposing  for  her." 

"There  is  no  harm  done  yet." 

" I  think  not!  Her  head  is  simply  full  of  this  war; 
but  who  can  tell  what  may  happen  at  any  moment?" 

"  Well,  mother,  let  me  take  her  home ;  I  will  make 
my  mother-in-law  understand.  We  will  undertake  to 
keep  her  out  of  the  way  of  M.  de  Henisson,  and  to  let 
M.  de  Noirmont  have  every  opportunity  of  being  fasci- 
nated by  her  plump  roses  and  her  lively  tongue." 

And  so  it  was  settled,  and  Caroline  found  herself 
transferred  to  the  Hotel  de  Limours,  a  much  more 
amusing  abode  than  that  of  Nidemerle,  and  where, 
moreover,  she  had  a  room  to  herself,  or  only  with 
Zelie  on  a  pallet  on  the  floor. 

Mesdames  de  Limours  were  sufficiently  infected 
with  the  new  ideas  to  afford  Caroline  a  good  deal 
more  liberty  and  sympathy  than  she  had  previously 
met  with.  The  elder  watched  and  philosophised,  the 
younger  laughed  and  was  confidential.  It  would 
hardly  have  been  in  the  nature  of  things  that  Mela- 
nie,  so  very  little  the  elder,  should  not,  in  gaiety  of 
heart  and  self-importance,  confide  to  Caroline  all  that 
she  was  not  meant  to  confide,  especially  when  M.  de 
Henisson  made  his  appearance  on  an  evening  when  he 
was  by  no  means  expected,  when  the  ladies  had  settled 
themselves  down  to  listen  to  a  poem  upon  the  Gracchi, 
written  by  a  candidate  for  the  Academy,  and  were 


50  CAROLINE'S   DEFIANCE  part  i 

devoting  their  lingers  to  parjihr,  namely  the  unravel- 
ling of  gold  lace  on  trimmings  or  epaulettes,  to  be 
made  up  again  into  ornamental  trifles.  He  came  and 
hovered  about,  offering  to  hold  a  long  piece  of  lace 
while  Mademoiselle  Darpent  unravelled  it;  and  in 
the  meantime  the  elderly  Viscount  sat  bending  his 
grizzled  eyebrows,  and  cynically  criticising  poor  Car- 
oline, even  to  the  verge  of  impoliteness. 

Melanie  was  so  much  tickled  that  she  could  not  help 
following  Caroline  to  her  room,  and  making  merry 
over  her  two  admirers.  Poor  Caroline's  eyes  grew 
round  with  horror. 

"My  cousin,  you  are  in  jest;  M.  de  Henisson  is  to 
marry  Cecile." 

"  If  he  will ;  but  he  has  been  in  your  country,  my 
dear  friend,  and  has  ideas  of  his  own." 

"Impossible.  His  honour  is  engaged  to  my  aunt 
and  uncle." 

"Only  his  mother's  word!  Come,  my  dear,  you 
should  be  flattered." 

"Flattered?  To  find  myself  the  supplanter  of  my 
dear  Cecile?     Melanie,  what  are  you  thinking  of?" 

"  Very  well,  then,  you  must  pay  more  attention  to 
your  other  pretendeurs." 

"Now  I  am  more  puzzled  than  ever,  unless  you 
simply  want  to  tease  me." 

"  You  have,  then,  never  observed  the  rapt  looks  of 
poor  Monsieur  de  Noirmont?" 

"He!    Now  I  am  sure  it  is  a  joke." 

"  See  whether  you  think  so  when  my  father  and 
mother  fetch  you  to  sign  the  contract  of  marriage." 

"Impossible.  Why,  his  face  is  the  colour  of  cafe 
au  lait,  and  puckered  like  an  old  sailor's  who  has 
faced  wind  and  sun  for  forty  years." 


chap,  v  THE    "BELLE   POULE  "  51 

"  Nevertheless  lie  is  visibly  taken  with  you  —  all 
your  esprit,  my  dear.  He  made  inquiries  of  my  belle- 
mere  as  to  your  connections  and  your  dot." 

"I  have  no  dot,  I  am  happy  to  say." 

"Ah!  that  does  not  matter  to  him.  He  has  I  know 
not  how  many  thousand  livres  de  rente  in  Perigord, 
besides  a  pension  as  master  of  the  Queen's  lap-dogs, 
and  he  is  a  Chevalier  de  St.  Louis !  You  would  have 
les  grandes  entrees." 

"What  do  I  care  for  that?  He  is  wrinkled  like  an 
old  ape  looking  out  of  his  fine  waistcoat.  I  once  had 
a  monkey  from  Demerara  exactly  like  him.  Oh! 
Melanie,  it  is  impossible !  " 

"You  will  not  find  it  so.  And  after  all,  as  my 
mother  says,  you  will  soon  be  free,  and  a  rich  Vis- 
countess." 

"  I  will  never  believe  that  my  aunt  said  anything  so 
wicked." 

Melanie  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"I  shall  write  to  my  uncle  in  England.  Ah,  this 
war !  " 

Caroline  began  to  weep  bitterly. 

"Oh  cousin,  dear  cousin,  cannot  you  help  me?" 

"I?  All  the  girls  I  have  ever  known  would  be 
transported  at  such  a  prospect!  Do  you  not  know 
that  it  is  absolutely  shocking  to  think  about  love  for 
one's  fiance?  If  my  mother  heard  you,  what  would 
she  say?  Turning  away  from  such  an  admirable 
parti,  just  to  cross  poor  Cecile's  marriage,  and  make 
her  betrothed  in  love  with  you !  " 

"Never!  never!  You  know  that  would  be  too 
horrible." 

"I  may  know  it,  but  my  mother  would  never 
believe    it,   scarcely  even  my  mother-in-law,    unless 


52  CAROLINE'S   DEFIANCE  tart  i 

you  are  a  good  child  and  quietly  accept  M.  de  Xoir- 
mont." 

Wherewith  Melanie  heard  her  son  crying,  and  hur- 
ried away,  leaving  Caroline  in  tears  of  despair. 

She  wept  herself  to  sleep  in  the  perplexity  between 
the  choice  of  seeming  to  betray  her  cousin,  or  of 
allowing  herself  to  be  bestowed  on  the  old  man  whom 
she  regarded  with  all  the  horror  of  youth.  However, 
she  went  to  sleep,  and  with  morning  light  began  to 
regard  all  that  Melanie  had  talked  of  the  night  before 
as  a  sort  of  bad  impossible  dream. 

And  the  morning's  events  drove  the  matter  out  of 
her  head.  All  the  bells  all  round  were  ringing  for 
joy;  those  of  the  church  close  by  almost  deafened 
her.  She  generall}7  went  thither  to  Mass,  with  the 
elder  Madame  de  Limours,  for  motherhood  had  dis- 
pensed Melanie  from  going,  and  if  the  mother-in-law 
did  not  go,  Zelie  walked  close  behind  her,  and  a  foot- 
man a  little  further  off. 

Something  was  murmured  of  a  victory,  and  the 
priest,  as  he  took  his  position  at  the  little  side  altar, 
called  on  his  dear  children  to  give  thanks  for  a  great 
naval  victor}*  over  the  English. 

Caroline  felt  anything  but  thankful.  Her  heart 
was  hot  within  her;  she  flatly  disbelieved  that  the 
English  could  be  beaten,  even  when  she  came  home 
and  found  all  the  family  in  transports  of  delight. 
Captain  Chandeau  de  la  Clochetterie  in  the  Belle 
Poule  had  actually  beaten  off  the  English  ship  Are- 
tJiusa  in  the  Channel,  and  forced  Admiral  Keppel  to 
retreat  with  all  his  fleet.  Xay,  there  were  those  who 
declared  that  all  the  fleet  had  been  captured  and  car- 
ried into  the  harbour  of  Brest. 

Poor  Caroline !     She  wept  angry  tears,  and  begged 


chai>.  v  THE    -BELLE   POULE »  53 

for  a  sight  of  the  Gazette,  out  of  which  she  got  so 
much  comfort  that  she  could  not  find  the  name  of  a 
single  British  ship  captured,  or  even  sunk,  which  she 
would  have  preferred ! 

"Yes,"  she  cried  with  flashing  eyes,  "I  had  rather 
sink  with  my  father's  ship,  or  be  blown  to  atoms  than 
that  he  should  strike  his  flag." 

The  ladies  went  out  for  a  walk  in  the  Tuileries  Gar- 
dens, in  the  stiff  paths,  shut  in  by  trees  and  statues, 
Caroline  prancing  and  dancing  with  excitement,  ready 
to  snap  contradictions  off  at  all  who  did  but  mention 
the  navy. 

Suddenly  she  saw  Dr.  Franklin's  grey  Quaker  cos- 
tume, as  he  talked  to  some  stranger.  There  was  no 
holding  her  in.  The  two  Mesdames  de  Limours  were 
scandalised  by  seeing  her  fly  up  to  him,  leaping  over 
a  bed  of  pinks,  and,  clasping  her  hands  on  his  arm, 
cry  out  in  English  — 

"Sir,  sir,  pardon  me;  but  at  least  you  will  know 
the  truth  and  tell  it  to  me.  What  is  this?  What  has 
happened  to  the  English  fleet?  " 

He  looked  down  at  the  eager  little  flushed  face, 
amazed. 

"Thou  art  English,  child?" 

"  Oh !  yes,  yes ;  my  father  was  a  British  Admiral. 
I  cannot  hear  the  truth  here.  Tell  me!  Has  harm 
befallen  our  fleet?  Have  the  French  beaten  us?  Oh 
no,  I  cannot  believe  it !  " 

"  Be  content,  little  patriot.  The  French  know  how 
to  blow  their  own  trumpet." 

"Then  it  is  not  true?" 

"  I  might  say  I  wish  it  were,  but  I  have  too  much 
British  blood  to  care  to  see  this  nation  triumph  even 
in  our  cause  on  the  British  element,"  said  Franklin. 


54  CAROLINE'S    DEFIANCE  part  i 

"Good,  dear  sir!  "  ejaculated  Caroline. 
"What  happened  was  this.  The  Licorne  and  the 
Belle  Ponle  frigates  were  attacked  by  the  English  Are- 
thusa.  The  Unicorn  gave  in  and  surrendered,  after  the 
fashion  of  that  fabulous  animal,  but  the  Fair  Hen 
ruffled  her  feathers  and  wings  and  made  such  good 
defence  that  by  the  time  she  had  got  among  the 
Breton  rocks,  the  Arethusa  was  dismasted  and  well 
battered.      There  was  a  calm,   and  no  other  vessel 

could  come  to  her  aid,  so " 

"She  did  not  yield." 

"  Oh  no !  She  drew  off  and  joined  the  rest  of  the 
fleet!  And  the  Belle  Poule  came  into  Brest,  and  the 
Gallic  cock  has  been  crowing  ever  since,  till  it  makes 
an  honest  man  sick  to  hear  him." 

The  two  ladies  de  Limours  came  up,  very  much 
shocked,  at  the  same  moment.  They  could  endure  a 
good  deal,  but  this,  in  full  view  of  the  promenaders 
in  the  Tuileries  Gardens,  was  more  than  they  could 
tolerate,  and  they  had  hurried  round  the  devious 
paths,  not  taking  the  short  cut  like  their  charge. 

"  Monsieur  le  Docteur,  I  am  desolated,  I  pray  you 
to  excuse  her,"  began  the  elderly  lady. 

"  She  is  a  good  little  patriot,  madame, "  said  Frank- 
lin, in  his  halting  French,  not  removing  his  broad- 
brimmed  hat,  but  making  an  inclination  that  might 
pass  for  courtesy.  "A  good  patriot,  though  not  on 
my  side  of  the  question,  and  I  honour  her.  Adieu, 
brave  Anglaise." 

The  ladies,  fairly  capturing  Caroline,  bore  her  off 
between  them,  but  could  not  chain  her  tongue,  as  she 
called  out : 

"Farewell,  Dr.  Franklin.  Take  all  my  thanks. 
You  have  told  me  the  truth." 


chap,  v  THE    "BELLE   POULE  "  55 

Madame  de  Limours  tried  all  the  way  home  to  bring 
Caroline  to  a  sense  of  the  enormity  of  her  proceeding; 
but  Melanie  would  do  little  but  laugh  at  the  patriotic 
English  "Mattelotte,"  as  she  called  her,  "skipping 
over  the  pinks  as  if  they  had  been  waves,"  and  gain- 
ing the  applause  of  the  great  "Quackker." 

And  even  Madame  de  Limours  the  elder  allowed 
that  it  was  the  less  harm,  as  he  was  in  a  manner  Eng- 
lish also,  only  it  was  to  be  hoped  that  no  one  had  seen 
her,  especially  no  one  who  would  tell  M.  de  Noir- 
mont. 

While  Caroline  went  back,  attending  to  very  little 
that  either  said,  only  swelling  with  delight  that  the 
French  should  call  it  a  victory  to  have  the  Lkorne 
taken,  and  to  have  barely  succeeded  in  beating  off  the 
Arethusa. 

The  Belle  Poule  might  have  been  a  turkey-cock  for 
the  triumph  she  made  of  it ! 


CHAPTER   VI 


Caroline's  exasperation  was  to  be  increased  to  the 
last  degree.  The  next  night  the  whole  family  party 
went  to  the  Opera  —  Gluck's  opera  of  Armida  —  and 
there,  in  every  box,  from  that  of  the  Countess  of 
Provence  downwards,  was  to  be  seen  what  was  called 
the  Coiffure  Belle  Poule;  namely,  on  the  powdered 
expanse,  raised  a  quarter  of  a  yard  above  the  ladies' 
heads,  there  tossed  a  sea  of  green  gauze,  upon  which 
elevation  appeared  the  best  model  of  the  Belle  Poule 
that  Parisian  art  could  devise,  in  full  sail,  with  the 
fleur-de-lys  at  her  masthead,  chasing  the  Arethusa, 
saucy  no  more,  but  going  off  with  shattered  masts, 
behind  the  ladies'  back  hair,  where  the  Union  Jack, 
or  what  was  supposed  to  be  such,  trailed  in  disgrace. 

The  anger  of  eighteen  years  is  a  vehement  matter. 
Caroline's  eyes  flashed  lightnings  as  she  looked  from 
one  box  to  another.  She  bit  her  lips,  could  hardly 
swallow  down  her  fury,  or  keep  from  breaking  in  on 
Gluck's  compositions,  which  might  soothe  Einaldo, 
but  were  very  far  from  soothing  her. 

Then  she  remembered  with  glee  how  very  small  the 
advantage  had  been  over  which  they  were  exulting, 
though,  in  truth,  the  amiable  Parisian  public  really 
believed  it  had  been  a  magnificent  victory. 

56 


chap,  vi  THE   SAUCY    "ARETHUSA"  57 

"  Thankful  for  small  mercies  !  "  She  could  not  but 
quote  the  old  Scottish  saying.  "We  should  have 
called  it  next  thing  to  a  defeat ! " 

As  in  fact  "  we  "  did. 

"  My  dear  child,  do  not  talk  so  fast !  It  is  not 
good  taste,"  remonstrated  Madame  de  Limours. 

"If  they  would  not  triumph  when  there  is  no 
triumph,"  said  Caroline.  "  Why,  they  could  not  even 
make  a  Union  Jack  properly.  They  mixed  up  all  the 
crosses  together ;  but  that  was  a  good  thing,  for  it  was 
not  the  English  flag  that  they  trailed  in  the  dust." 

"  Literally  in  the  dust,"  said  Melanie;  at  which 
they  all  laughed,  thinking  of  the  white  clouds  of 
powder  at  the  back  of  the  ladies'  heads,  and  she 
began  to  talk  gossip  so  vehemently  that  Caroline 
was  silenced. 

She  meditated,  however,  and  devised  a  revenge! 
How  should  she  carry  it  out  ?  It  was  of  no  use  to 
talk  !■  M.  de  Noirmont,  whom  she  favoured  with  an 
outpouring  of  "  the  simple  truth,"  only  took  it  as  her 
national  spirit  and  another  form  of  esprit;  and  indeed 
Madame  de  Nidemerle  came  to  her  daughter  replete 
with  delight  at  his  having  actually  asked  the  young 
lady  from  her  uncle.  There  would  really  be  the  brill- 
iant marriage  that  had  been  held  out  to  Mr.  Darpent 
for  his  niece,  without  much  real  hope  that  it  would  be 
attainable,  and  moreover  Caroline  would  be  removed 
from  being  an  obstacle  in  Cecile's  way,  and  the  tardy 
Baron  de  Henisson  might  at  last  proceed  in  the  matter. 

Melanie  rejoiced  that  the  matter  was  broached 
while  Caroline  and  Ce'cile  were  both  out  of  hearing. 

"It  had  better  be  arranged  before  she  hears  of 
it,  dear  mamma,"  she  said.  "If  there  seems  to  be 
no  escape,  she  will  be  more  likely  to  yield." 


58  CAROLINE'S   DEFIANCE 


Comment  ?    A  well-brought-up  girl  refuse  a  mar- 


riage 


'•• 


"Ah,  my  dear  mamma,  you  forget  her  original 
English  breeding!  She  is  so  wild  now  about  our 
victory,  that  she  can  think  of  nothing  else." 

After  all,  Melanie  was  not  quite  straightforward. 
She  durst  not  show  her  mother  how  much  she  sympa- 
thised with  Caroline  in  her  horror  of  the  old  monkey- 
faced  Viscount,  yet  she  sincerely  wished  to  clear  the 
way  for  her  sister;  and  she  gathered,  before  long, 
that  she  had  only  to  sit  still  and  connive  at  her 
cousin's  own  perfectly  simple-hearted  proceedings, 
to  have  the  whole  difficulty  cleared  up. 

For  Caroline's  whole  idea  was  to  vindicate  the 
honour  of  the  British  flag.  She  kept  herself  a  good 
deal  shut  up  in  her  room,  and  used  to  the  utmost 
her  opportunities  of  buying  various  chiffons.  But 
even  Melanie  was  in  consternation,  when,  at  the 
next  Opera,  the  huge  caleche  came  off  which  had 
shrouded  Caroline's  head,  and  she  walked  into  the 
box  behind  the  two  Mesdames  de  Limours,  the  two 
gentlemen  being  at  a  half-literary,  half-political  soiree. 
For  on  her  head  she  bore,  raised  on  a  scaffold  of  pow- 
der and  pomatum  with  other  stiffenings,  five  English 
line-of-battle  ships,  beautifully  and  artistically  con- 
structed, each  with  a  streamer  bearing  her  name,  and 
all  taking  the  Licorne  and  a  lugger  into  Plymouth 
harbour,  which  was  denoted  by  an  erection  of  silk 
and  gauze,  with  the  name  over  it,  traced  in  beads  ! 

In  this  way,  holding  her  head  aloft  like  a  peacock, 
did  Caroline  Darpent  march  into  the  .box  and  take 
her  seat  with  the  air  of  Britannia  herself,  regretting 
that  she  could  not  sit  in  the  front  place.  For,  after 
the  first  glance,  Melanie,  who  had   generally  given 


chap,  vi  THE    SAUCY    "AHETHUSA"  59 

way  to  her  as  a  guest,  took  fright,  and  thought  it 
prudent  to  efface  her  as  far  as  possible,  suppressing 
her  own  laughter,  and  growing  very  nervous  as  she 
detected  lorgnettes  directed  upon  the  party. 

The  elder  Madame  de  Limours  was  rather  blind, 
and  had  not  observed  the  full  splendours  of  Caroline's 
patriotic  head-dress.  In  truth,  its  beauties  were  on 
too  minute  a  scale  to  attract  attention  in  such  light  as 
theatres  then  enjoyed,  and  there  was  a  little  sense  of 
disappointment.  Something  was  lacking  to  the  sen- 
sation that  ought  to  have  been  produced. 

However,  between  the  acts,  first  one  and  then 
another  gentleman  came  into  the  box  and  performed 
due  acts  of  politeness  to  Madame  de  Limours,  with 
whom  they  were  slightly  acquainted,  then  evidently 
studied  the  young  lady's  head-dress  as  closely  as 
politeness  would  permit,  though  they  conversed  on 
casual  subjects;  but  Melanie's  eyes  began  to  grow 
round  with  alarm. 

"Unhappy  child!"  she  whispered,  as  they  went 
away.     "  What  have  you  done  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  I  hope  they  at  least  under- 
stand that  I  know  what  victory  means." 

"  What  could  bring  M.  de  Eatouville  here  ?  " 

Meantime  Madame  de  Limours  the  elder  asked 
complacently  — 

"  He  is  no  longer  greatly  connected  with  your  hus- 
band, my  dear  ?  " 

"  No,"  returned  Melanie,  under  cover  of  the  music ; 
"he  dropped  Charles  for  his  friendship  with  the 
Orleans    party." 

"  You  do  not  think  he  has  any  false  suspicions  of 
Charles  ?  " 

"  No,  no.     Our  party  is  in  favour  now.     But "  —  and 


GO  CAROLINE'S   DFFIANCE  part  i 

she  shook  her  head  at  Caroline,  with  a  meaning  look 
of  anxiety,  and  by  and  by  managed,  during  a  great 
burst  of  the  orchestra,  to  say  in  her  cousin's  ear  —  "  he 
is  said  to  be  a  spy  of  the  police." 

"  Let  him  be,"  proudly  replied  Caroline.  "  I  am  not 
ashamed  of  my  colours." 

But  Melanie  remarked  that  M.  de  iSToirmont  did  not 
as  usual  visit  their  box,  though  he  was  visible  in  the 
distance,  apparently  quite  absorbed  in  the  music  of 
Gluck.  She  was  somewhat  disturbed,  and  Caroline 
felt  a  shade  of  vexation,  for  she  would  have  liked  a 
tilt  with  him  on  her  patriotism. 

More,  and  probably  stronger,  opera-glasses  began  to 
be  directed  towards  the  party,  and  while  the  elder 
lady  was  wondering  what  was  the  attraction,  M.  de 
Henisson  came  into  the  box,  and,  leaning  over  Melanie, 
said  — 

"Madame  la  Comtesse's  carriage  is  in  waiting.  It 
would  be  well  to  come  away  before  the  general  de- 
parture." 

Melanie  understood,  and  jumped  up,  laying  her  hand 
on  her  mother-in-law's  shoulder,  and  hinting  to  her 
that  there  would  be  a  final  crush. 

"  But,  my  dear,  I  love  the  last  chorus." 

"  Yes,  yes,  dear  mother,  but  —  but  I  must  get  home. 
My  baby "     Melanie  coined  the  excuse. 

"  Ah,  child,  that  new  fashion  !  "We  knew  better  than 
to  let  our  infants  be  an  inconvenience." 

However  she  yielded,  and  M.  de  Henisson  manoeu- 
vred them  out,  Melanie  pulling  Caroline's  calash  as 
far  as  possible  over  her  head. 

"  You  blind  me  !  "  cried  Caroline. 

"  No,  no ;  I  conjure  you,  keep  it  on,"  gasped  Melanie, 
as  they  made   their  way  through  the  dark  passages 


chap,  vi  THE    SAUCY    "  AKETHUSA "  01 

with  their  pioneer;  and  as  they  emerged  into  the 
lamplit  hall  they  heard  murmurs  — 

"  It  was  the  Limours  party.     That  is  the  old  lady." 

And  odd-looking  men  stood  about,  one  of  whom,  as 
they  crossed  the  pavement  to  the  carriage,  contrived 
to  be  pushed  up  against  Caroline,  and  shoved  back  her 
great  hood,  so  that  for  a  moment  the  English  fleet 
hove  in  view. 

k<  There  she  is  !  It  is  she  !  The  spy  !  the  traitor  !  " 
were  the  murmurs,  growing  to  a  growl  and  roar. 

Madame  de  Limours  was  in  the  carriage,  Caroline 
turned  on  the  step. 

"No  traitor  !  I  am  English " 

She  did  not  finish  the  word.  M.  de  Henisson  fairly 
threw  her  into  the  carriage  after  Melanie,  though  not 
in  time  to  hinder  a  big  lump  of  mud  from  falling  on 
her  neck.  He  stood  with  half -drawn  sword,  exclaim- 
ing— 

"Who  dares  find  fault  with  a  brave  lady  for  de- 
fending her  country's  honour  ?  " 

The  mob  of  Paris  was  not  what  it  became  fifteen 
years  later.  There  was  something  that  appealed  to 
their  feelings  in  the  notion  of  the  gallant  lady  stand- 
ing up  for  her  country,  and  some  of  them  even  cried, 
"  Vive  la  belle !  "  and  though  there  was  a  counter  cry 
of  "  A  bas  les  Anglais ! "  the  coachman  was  not  hin- 
dered from  driving  off,  with  Melanie  almost  in 
hysterics  between  fright  and  diversion,  Madame  de 
Limours  feebly  inquiring  what  was  the  matter,  and 
what  it  all  meant,  and  Caroline  chiefly  solicitous  that 
the  Parisian  mud  should  not  have  touched  the  English 
navy. 

It  was  not  till  they  had  reached  home,  and  were 
fairly  among  the  wax-lights  of  the  salon,  that  Madame 


62  CAROLINE'S   DEFIANCE  part  i 

de  Limours  fairly  understood  what  the  provocation 
had  been. 

"  Look,  mother,  do  you  not  see  —  Caroline's  patriot- 
ism ?  "  cried  Melanie,  sinking  into  a  chair,  to  laugh  at 
her  ease.     "  Look  at  her  head." 

Caroline,  who  had  satisfied  herself,  by  a  glance  at  a 
mirror,  that  the  British  fleet  was  safe,  had  to  sit  up- 
right in  her  chair  while  Madame  de  Limours,  in  her 
spectacles,  looked  her  well  over,  with  exclamations  — 

"Plyniout!  Ah!  malheu reuse.  What  have  you 
done  ?  " 

"  I  have  maintained  the  truth,  and  held  up  the 
honour  of  our  flag,"  replied  the  undaunted  young 
lady. 

"  Melanie  !  how  could  you  let  her  be  so  mad  ?  That 
was  the  reason  that  Eatouville  came  in.  What  may 
she  not  have  brought  on  us  ?  " 

"  Whatever  happens,  I  will  bear  the  whole  blame, 
madame  !     I  have  no  fear  for  any  one  else." 

"  You  do  not  know  !  There  may  be  a  lettre  de  cachet 
on  its  way  for  all  of  us." 

"  Oh  no,  mother,"  said  Melanie,  "  the  days  of  the 
Bastille  are  over  !  It  will  only  be  a  laughing  matter  "  ; 
and  off  she  went  again.  "  To  see  the  puzzled,  hesi- 
tating faces,  when  they  began  to  aim  their  lorgnettes 
at  her,  much  as  if  they  had  been  pistols  !  and  after  all 
they  did  not  half  understand  the  point.  You  were  too 
fine  for  them,  Caroline,  my  dear.  A  walnut-shell  boat 
would  have  answered  the  purpose  quite  as  well  as  those 
beauteous  miniature  men-of-war." 

"  Surely  you  had  no  share  in  the  concoction  of  this 
—  this "     Madame  hesitated  for  a  word. 

"  Oh  no,  my  dear  maman.  Caroline  can  assure  you 
that  it  was  all  her  own  doing." 


chap,  vi  THE   SAUCY   "  ARETHUSA "  63 

"  Yes,  indeed.  Of  course  it  was  my  own.  I  would 
have  no  one's  help  but  Zelie's,"  returned  Caroline. 
"  I  let  the  coiffeur  build  up  my  head,  but  I  changed 
all  his  ornaments  afterwards.  Do  not  fear,  madame. 
I  will  explain  that  it  is  my  own  doing !  and  willingly 
go  to  the  Bastille  if  they  will." 

"  Well,  child,  go  to  bed  now.  Do  not  let  Monsieur 
mon  Mart  see  you  in  this  trim." 

Caroline  was  not  sorry  to  obey,  for  seven  ships, 
besides  Plymouth  harbour,  were  no  trifle  to  carry 
upon  her  head,  nor  did  she  quite  wish  to  encounter 
M.  de  Limours'  satirical  looks,  which  would  be  much 
more  trying  than  the  open  condemnation  such  as  she 
could  defy. 

She  saw  no  more  of  any  one  that  night,  and  dreamt 
that  all  the  little  ships  were  still  on  her  head,  and 
were  firing  at  the  enemy;  but  suddenly  all  turned 
into  bonbons,  and  the  smoke  was  a  cloud  of  perfume, 
out  of  which  came  Franklin's  voice,  saying,  "  Cut  off 
her  hair,  and  put  her  into  a  i  Quackker '  bonnet." 


CHAPTER   VII 


DEFEAT 


Melaxie  came  to  her  cousin's  room  betimes  in  the 
morning. 

"  Ah,  my  dear  little  cabbage,"  she  began,  "  I  fear 
they  will  never  forgive  you  ! " 

"Who?" 

"  My  father  and  mother-in-law.  They  say  you  must 
be  sent  straight  off  to  your  aunt  at  once,  or  we  shall 
all  be  embroiled  with  the  Court.  Oh,  my  dear,  my 
dear,  when  shall  I  see  you  again  ?  You  will  not  see 
this  angel "  —  holding  up  her  baby  for  a  kiss,  and  with 
tears  in  her  eyes. 

Caroline  joined  in  the  passionate  embrace,  but  still 
she  was  staunch,  as  became  an  Admiral's  daughter. 

"  I  am  ready  for  the  consequences,"  she  said. 

"It  is  all  over  Paris,  my  dear!  M.  de  Limours 
heard  that  you  stood  in  front  of  the  box,  crying, 
i  Vivent  les  Anglais ;  el  has  le  pavilion  Francais ! '  That, 
of  course,  I  told  him  you  never  did ;  but  they  say,  too, 
that  M.  de  Henisson  kissed  your  hand,  and  dared  any 
one  to  touch  hisjiancee!" 

"  M.  de  Henisson  behaved  only  as  any  gentleman  — 
any  man  —  would  to  ladies  in  danger,"  said  Caroline. 

"  We  shall  have  my  mother  here  in  fury  and  despair 
about  Cecile's  marriage,"  said  Melanie.  "'Ah,  ah!  I 
hear  wheels  in  the  court !     Depend  upon  it,  it  is  she." 

61 


CHAP.    VII 


DEFEAT  65 


And  so  it  proved  to  be !  The  whole  party  were 
summoned  to  the  room  where  the  elder  Madame  de 
Limours  sat  up  in  bed  in  her  alcove,  supported  on 
laced  pillows,  and  in  an  elaborate  nightcap ;  and  there 
stood  Madame  de  Nidemerle,  with  her  hand  on  the 
back  of  her  chair,  too  angry  to  remain  seated,  with  hot 
tears  in  her  eyes. 

"  Miserable  child !  "  was  her  cry.  "  What  have  you 
done  ?  " 

"  I  have  vindicated  the  honour  of  the  English  flag, 
that  is  all,  madame,"  replied  Caroline,  whose  blood  was 
up,  so  that  she  made  a  little  insulting  curtsey. 

"  You  have  insulted  the  French  nation,  offended  the 
Court,  so  that  it  is  well  if  all  of  us  do  not  spend  the 
rest  of  our  lives  in  the  Bastille. " 

Some  one  murmured  "No,  no." 

"  Or  in  exile,  at  least,  which  would  be  as  bad !  And 
not  content  with  that,  she  has  overset  two  marriages 
—  excellent  marriages  !  "  cried  the  lady,  bursting  into 
tears.  "My  daughter,  my  unnatural  daughter,  I  be- 
lieve you  knew  all  about  it.  Here  has  the  Vicomte 
been  with  your  father  this  morning  already  to  with- 
draw his  offer  for  such  a  firebrand." 

Caroline  clapped  her  hands.  "  I  knew  it,  the  mean 
old  fellow  !  "  she  muttered  under  her  breath. 

"  Such  a  marriage,  which  would  have  given  us  all 
the  lead.  And  as  to  Henisson,  you  did  it  on  pur- 
pose to  feed  his  Anglo-mania,  mademoiselle  —  I  knoAv 
it  too  well  —  to  attract  him  away  from  my  poor  Ce- 
cile " 

"  No,  no,  madanie,"  broke  in  Caroline.  "  I  never 
thought  of  any  such  thing." 

"  Then  why  did  he  come  and  play  the  hero  of  ro- 
mance to  your  absurd  exposition  of  nationality  ?  " 


C6  CAROLINE'S   DEFIANCE  part  i 

"  He  acted  a  manly  part,  as  a  gentleman  would  do," 
cried  Caroline.  "If  lie  learnt  only  in  England  to 
stand  by  ladies  in  distress,  so  much,  the  worse  for 
France !  I  do  not  want  to  marry  him,  nor  any  French- 
man of  the  whole  crew  !  " 

'•That  is  true,  mother,"  ventured  Melanie.  "My 
cousin  sincerely  wished  to  avoid  hurting  Cecile's 
prospects." 

"  It  was  your  fault ;  you  abetted  her  in  it  all." 

"  No,  she  did  not,"  exclaimed  Caroline.  "  All  I  did 
was  unknown  to  her  ;  indeed  it  was." 

Madame  de  Nidenierle  sniffed  the  air  incredulously, 
but  added  — 

"  One  thing  is  certain  :  back  to  the  convent  you  go. 
Such  a  disloyal  being  shall  not  remain  in  my  house, 
nor  yours,  madam  e." 

"But  the  small-pox!"  cried  both  the  ladies  de 
Limours  at  once. 

"  The  small-pox  is  nearly  over." 

"  In  the  most  infectious  stage  !  "  exclaimed  Madame 
de  Limours.  "No,  she  must  go  to  the  Ursulines.  They 
would  take  her  in  till  she  can  be  sent  to  England." 

Their  conversation  was  interrupted,  for  M.  de  Li- 
mours came  in  with  a  very  grave  face,  and,  after 
greeting  to  the  visitor,  said  — 

"  Mademoiselle  Caroline,  I  fear  your  escapade  has 
serious  consequences.  M.  le  Noir  desires  an  inter- 
view with  mademoiselle." 

"  The  chief  of  police,"  sighed  Melanie.  "  Oh,  Caro- 
line, Caroline,  what  have  you  done  ?  " 

Still  Caroline  would  not  be  frightened.  Indeed,  it 
is  not  certain  that  she  did  not  enjoy  having  made 
such  a  commotion,  and,  at  any  rate,  having  disposed 
of  her  ancient  suitor. 


CHAT.    VII 


DEFEAT  67 


She  held  her  head  high,  and  declared  herself  ready 
to  see  the  great  man ;  but  Melanie  and  her  annt  both 
insisted  on  calling  Zelie,  and  touching  up  her  im- 
promptu toilette,  while  she  fidgeted,  eager  not  to 
keep  him  waiting,  and  to  have  it  over. 

When  at  length  she  was  ready,  M.  de  Limours 
escorted  her  to  the  salon,  accompanied  by  Melanie, 
who  held  her  hand  to  give  her  the  courage  she  did 
not  want.  They  found  M.  Charles  de  Limours  and 
M.  de  Nidemerle  both  in  company  with  a  military- 
looking  man,  stiff  in  his  uniform,  and  with  a  brown, 
dry  face. 

"Pardon  me,"  he  said  politely,  when  bows  had  been 
exchanged,  "  I  believe  mademoiselle  is  English  ?  " 

"Certainly  I  am  English.  My  father  was  Admiral 
of  the  Eed,  and  commanded  the  seventy-two  gun 
vessel  Corcyr." 

"Yet  mademoiselle  is  the  niece  of  Madame  la 
Marquise  de  Nidemerle  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  my  mother  came  from  Guadaloupe." 

"  You  have  been  at  Paris  — how  long  ?  " 

"Five  years.  I  sailed  with  my  father  till  his  death, 
then  I  was  sent  to  my  uncle  in  England ;  but  since  that 
time  I  have  been  here." 

"  In  the  convent  of  Ste.  Lucie,  outside  the  walls," 
put  in  M.  de  Nidemerle.  "  She  has  only  left  it  for  six 
weeks,  on  account  of  the  small-pox  raging  there,  and 
we  are  about  to  send  her  back  at  once." 

"Will  mademoiselle  favour  me  with  a  sight  of  her 
head-dress  of  last  night  ?  "  politely  asked  the  chief  of 
police. 

Caroline  was  allowed  to  fetch  it,  and  she  brought 
in  from  her  toilette-table  a  tray  on  which  she  had 
arranged  her  seven  ships  and  her  Plymouth  harbour. 


68  CAROLINE'S   DEFIANCE  part  i 

They  were  carefully  and  minutely  examined  by  the 
four  gentlemen,  and  finally  M.  le  Noir  said  — 

"  A  marvellous  work  of  art.  Mademoiselle  will  for- 
give me  for  carrying  them  away." 

"  Since  they  are  the  only  English  ships  that  mon- 
sieur takes,"  said  Caroline,  with  a  curtsey,  and  twin- 
kling eyes  half  downcast,  though  with  a  trembling 
voice.  She  had  been  thinking  over  the  retort,  and 
wondering  whether  she  should  have  courage  to  utter  it. 

"  Mademoiselle  is  a  vehement  partisan,"  replied  M. 
le  Noir.  "She  cannot  be  surprised  if  his  Majesty 
objects  to  her  further  residence  here.  I  have  here" 
—  and  he  produced  it  —  "  an  order  for  her  immediate 
leaving  of  the  country." 

Caroline's  spirits  rose  at  finding  no  one  else  was 
to  suffer,  and  she  was  ready  with  an  answer. 

"  Thank  you,  monsieur.  I  shall  be  glad  to  find  my- 
self at  home  in  my  father's  country." 

"  But  —  but,"  a  cry  arose  from  her  kinsman,  "  can 
she  not  have  a  little  grace  from  his  Majesty  ?  How 
can  a  young  demoiselle  be  sent  to  England  alone,  and 
in  time  of  war  ?  "  said  M.  de  Nidemerle. 

"  That  has  been  thought  of,"  returned  M.  le  Noir. 
"  I  gave,  yesterday,  their  passports  to  an  American 
family  of  a  merchant  who  desires  to  take  them  to 
England.  They  will  take  charge  of  mademoiselle 
until  she  can  be  returned  to  her  family." 

The  matter  had  been  done  with  much  consideration 
for  those  concerned  —  more,  indeed,  the  ladies  held, 
than  Caroline  deserved,  and  they  were  heartily  glad 
to  be  free  from  so  dangerous  a  patriot.  No  one  even 
shed  a  tear  over  her  except  Melanie,  for  she  was  not 
allowed  even  to  see  Cecile,  though  it  was  hard  to  say 
how  she  could  have  perverted  that  young  lady. 


chap,  vii  DEFEAT  69 

Zelie  was  to  accompany  her,  and  the  party  were  to 
be  escorted,  in  honour  of  Caroline's  presence,  by  two 
gens  cV amies  as  far  as  the  borders  of  Flanders,  whence 
the  Americans  meant  to  embark  in  a  neutral  vessel. 

One  of  the  gens  cV amies  remained  at  the  porte 
cochere  all  night,  which  gave  Caroline  an  odd  sense 
of  consequence.  M.  de  Nidemerle  went  to  see  the 
Americans,  and  brought  back  comfortable  assurances 
that  Mrs.  Eudyard  was  kind  and  friendly,  and  prom- 
ised to  watch  over  Miss  Darpent  like  her  own  daughter. 
The  party  went  in  two  carriages,  calling  at  the  Hotel 
de  Limours  in  early  morning,  when  Melanie  attended 
her  to  the  bottom  of  the  staircase,  and  parted  from 
her  with  showers  of  tears. 

Caroline  looked  long  at  Paris,  at  the  narrow  streets, 
the  beautiful  Seine,  and  the  towers  of  Notre  Dame, 
little  guessing  what  she  escaped,  or  where  her  friends 
would  be  in  twelve  years'  time. 

There  is  no  need  to  describe  her  journey  with 
friends  who  showed  themselves  heartily  kind,  and  a 
good  deal  amused  at  the  attention  paid  them  by  the 
innkeepers  in  consequence  of  the  attendance  of  Caro- 
line's escort,  who  left  them  when  they  passed  the 
Flemish  border. 

At  Ostend,  an  English  brig,  which  had  put  in  for 
some  slight  repair,  delighted  the  eyes  of  Caroline. 
She  was  laughed  at  for  expecting  to  take  her  passage  in 
her;  but  at  the  table  cVhdte  there  appeared  two  or 
three  officers,  whose  blue  coats  and  gold  buttons  were 
exquisite  joy  to  her.  Something  soon  passed  between 
Mr.  Eudyard  and  the  captain,  and  presently  she 
heard  — 

"Miss  Darpent,  Captain  Aylmer  desires  to  be  pre- 
sented to  his  countrywoman." 


70  CAROLINE'S   DEFIANCE  part  i 

Her  eyes  sparkled.     So  did  his. 

"Miss  Darpent !     Can  it  be  little  Caroline  ?  " 

"  Oh,  George,  George,  is  it  you  ?  Are  you  a  com- 
mander ?  " 

For  her  sake,  Captain  Aylmer  offered  a  passage  to 
England  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Rudyard,  and  when  they 
went  on  board  the  next  morning,  Caroline  went  up  the 
side  of  the  ship  as  if  "her  foot  was  on  her  native 
heath."  All  the  crew  were  mustered  to  receive  her, 
and  the  cheers  in  which  they  broke  out  to  welcome 
their  old  Admiral's  daughter,  who  had  maintained  the 
honour  of  the  British  flag,  deafened  the  Flemings,  who 
decided  that  she  must  be  a  princess  in  disguise. 

A  bower  was  constructed  for  her  on  deck,  with  the 
Union  Jack  suspended  over  it,  and  her  three  days' 
voyage  to  Portsmouth  was  a  sort  of  ovation.  Captain 
Aylmer  obtained  leave  of  absence  to  escort  her  to 
Walwyn,  and  there  obtained  the  more  hearty  welcome 
for  her  from  even  Aunt  Darpent,  by  his  promise  to  come 
back  for  her  and  make  her  his  own  as  soon  as  his  pres- 
ent voyage  was  finished,  and  he  was  a  post-captain. 

And  with  this  prospect,  Mrs.  Darpent  could  well 
accept  the  presence  of  the  pretty  bright  girl,  who 
accepted  English  habits  and  English  church-going 
quite  naturally,  showed  no  perilous  disposition  to  at- 
tract such  of  her  cousins  as  were  still  at  home,  and 
was  actually  useful  with  her  dainty  convent  cookery 
and  exquisite  needlework.  Moreover,  she  fulfilled 
Mrs.  Darpent's  desires  by  teaching  the  two  little  girls, 
who  had  been  added  to  the  family  shelter,  French  as 
well  as  English.  And  Mr.  Darpent  always  had  a 
story  wherewith  to  raise  a  laugh  among  his  friends 
when  he  related  how  his  little  Carry  had  maintained 
the  honour  of  England. 


Part  II 
THE   RELEASE 


CHAPTER   I 

A    SUMMONS 

Ye  mariners  of  England  ! 
That  guard  our  native  seas. 

Campbell. 

It  was  in  a  congenial  place  that  Caroline  was  seated, 
namely  the  cabin  of  the  frigate  Oudenarde;  the  nar- 
row, odd-shaped  space  shared  by  the  carriage  of  a  gun, 
which  protruded  from  the  porthole,  while  another 
more  manageable  window  gave  her  a  view  over  the 
green  waters  of  Plymouth  harbour,  thickly  dotted 
with  vessels  of  all  sorts  and  sizes,  from  the  seventy- 
four  gun  ship  down  to  the  shore  boat. 

She  was  Caroline  Darpent  no  longer,  but  Caroline 
Aylmer.  The  kind  lieutenant  of  the  days  of  her  child- 
hood had  come  home  full  of  honour  from  the  Siege 
of  Gibraltar,  and  had  employed  his  leisure  on  shore 
in  a  courtship  at  Walwyn.  Never  was  there  greater 
satisfaction  at  being  again  connected  with  the  Royal 
Navy.  Squire  Darpent,  her  uncle,  jokingly  averred 
that  R.  N.  was  Captain  Aylmer's  chief  recommenda- 
tion ;  but  there  was  old  love  and  admiration  between 
him  and  the  maiden  of  his  choice,  and  there  was  enthu- 
siasm enough  within  her,  even  after  five  happy  years, 
to  be  proud  and  gratified  at  his  appointment  to  the 
Oudenarcle,  though  the  vessel  was  put  in  commission 
for  the  East  Indian  coast. 

73 


74  THE    RELEASE  part  ii 

The  drawbacks  to  her  delight  soon  revealed  them- 
selves. Wives,  if  not  prohibited,  were  decidedly  dis- 
couraged articles  on  board,  and  Captain  Aylmer  would 
not  hear  of  her  going  to  Bombay,  so  as  to  be  within 
reach,  in  the  utter  uncertainty  of  his  whereabouts. 
She  could  only  be  with  him  while  the  ship  was  refitting, 
and  there  both  had  to  suffer  from  the  grievance  of 
having  had  to  leave  their  two  little  children  under  the 
charge  of  their  grandmother,  so  that  little  Eustace 
would  not  have  even  a  three-year-old's  impression  of 
his  father's  ship.  Travelling  was  too  expensive  for 
him  to  be  brought  down  for  a  day  or  two,  and  though 
his  mother  declared  that  he  could  be  as  happy  and 
prosperous  as  she  had  been,  her  husband  would  not 
make  his  officers  uncomfortable,  nor  expose  the  boy  to 
the  chances  of  picking  up  nautical  language. 

Caroline,  as  vehement  as  ever,  had  nearly  quarrelled 
with  him,  being  sure  that  nothing  had  done  her  any 
harm ;  but  he  only  laughed  at  her  indignation,  though 
laughter  was  only  the  readiest  way  to  stave  off  the 
manifestation  of  the  pain  of  parting  with  his  wife  and 
little  ones  for  five,  it  might  be  for  seven,  years. 

In  spite  of  not  being  able  to  teach  Eustace  the  ropes, 
nor  make  him  shout  at  the  report  of  a  cannon,  the 
husband  and  wife  were  enjoying  the  sweetness  of 
"last  times,"  and  prizing  each  fresh  discovery  of  need 
of  repairs  that  involved  delay.  Caroline  sat  at  work, 
auguring  that  she  should  be  able  after  all  to  finish  the 
delicate  embroidered  muslin  ruffles  that  her  husband 
was  to  wear  when  he  dined  with  the  governor  or  the 
admiral,  when  she  heard  his  step  coming  down  to  her. 
and,  as  she  sprang  up  to  meet  him,  he  appeared  with 
a  large  packet  in  his  hand. 

"Come  by  coach  from  Downford,"  he  said.     ••'Your 


chap,  i  A   SUMMONS  75 

uncle  sends  it  on  from  Walwyn.  It  looks  like  a  de- 
spatch, but  it  is  addressed  to  you." 

"  Yes,  and  they  would  have  known  where  to  write 
to  you,"  said  Caroline,  as  she  cut  round  the  large  red 
seal  with  the  quartered  arms  of  Walwyn  and  Kibau- 
mont.  "  No,  this  enclosure,  '  A  Mistris  Caroline  Ail- 
mere,'  is  from  my  French  cousins ;  I  have  never  heard 
of  them  since  Melanie  wrote  to  congratulate  me  on  my 
marriage." 

"  I  remember  the  letter,  telling  you  that  you  must 
be  happy  to  belong  to  la  Marine." 

"  Quite  true,  except  at  the  partings.  But  see,  this 
is  a  great  business  letter.  Look  at  the  curly  twists 
and  stiff  writing !  " 

"  You  must  read  it,  sweetheart.  My  French  won't 
go  beyond  hailing  a  vessel." 

"Here  is  something  to  read  first,  with  M.  de  Li- 
mours'  great  red  seal.  Ah !  this  is  a  letter  of  expla- 
nation from  him  and  another  from  Melanie.  My  dear 
Melanie  !  So  my  uncle  is  dead,  and  Cecile,  poor  Cecile ! 
has  nothing  to  hold  her  to  the  world  since  M.  de  Henis- 
son  was  killed  in  America,  and  she  is  bent  on  taking 
the  veil." 

"That's  not  the  purport  of  yonder  packet.  Look, 
without  your  compliments,  don't  tack  even  them.  I 
ought  to  be  on  deck  in  five  minutes " 

"  It  seems  there  was  an  old  Uncle  de  Mericourt  —  I 
never  heard  of  him,  —  who  lived  on  his  plantation  in 
Marie  Galante,  a  Guadaloupe  island,  and  now  he  is 
dead,  and  his  property  is  to  be  divided  between  his 
two  nieces  or  their  representatives.  That  would  be 
only  myself  and  my  two  cousins,  Melanie  and  Cecile, 
Mesdames  de  Limours  and  de  Henisson,  and  they 
want  us  to  come  to  Paris  to  make  the  claim  and  assert 
our  rights." 


76  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

"Of  course  I  cannot  go  —  you  might.  How  much 
is  it  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  quite  make  out,  but  Melanie  says  '  the  un- 
cle, without  being  he  of  the  Philippine  islands  ' " 

"  What !  have  you  an  uncle  there  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no !  no  !     It  is  an  allusion  to  Gil  Bias." 

"  Oh,  go  on.  Never  mind  your  French  follies,  stick 
to  the  point." 

"He  is  thought  to  have  made  a  good  thing  of 
the  cannelle  trade.  Oh,  I  remember,  that  is  cinna- 
mon." 

"  Aye,  Marie  Galante  was  said  to  be  a  famous  place 
for  cinnamon  trees." 

"He  lived  like  a  hermit  among  his  slaves,  and 
spent  no  money,  so  much  is  expected;  but  all  his 
debts  are  not  yet  called  in,  and  M.  de  Limours  thinks 
we  ought  to  be  at  Paris  to  secure  our  share  of  the 
spoil.  Here  is  a  cordial  invitation  from  Melanie.  Oh ! 
they  have  taken  the  Nidemerle  title.  He  is  Marquis 
de  jSTidemerle  now." 

"You  might  go;  I  think  you  ought.  It  might 
make  a  great  difference  to  the  children.  They  should 
have  some  dependence  besides  my  prize  money." 

"I  wish  I  could  take  them  with  me.  If  it  were 
not  for  leaving  them,  I  would  as  soon  go  to  Paris  as 
anywhere  else,  while  I  mope  my  life  away  in  your 
absence." 

"Poor  Carry !     You  should  not  be  a  sailor's  wife." 

"  As  if  I  would  be  anything  else !  " 

"  And  you  won't  get  into  trouble  again  by  putting 
the  whole  fleet  upon  your  head." 

"  It  is  not  the  fashion  now,  they  say.  Besides,  all 
that  affair  is  forgotten." 

"You  will  go  under  a  different  name,  and  things 


chaf.  i  A  SUMMONS  77 

seem  to  be  changing.     Do  not  run  any  risk,  my  sweet 
life." 

"  Not  half  so  many  as  you  do  in  those  horrid  East 
Indies." 

"  Ah !  remember  that  it  is  due  to  our  children  that 
one  of  us  should  be  careful." 

So  it  was  definitely  settled  that  Mrs.  Aylmer  should 
accept  the  invitation  of  her  cousin,  the  Marquise  de 
Nidemerle,  and  repair  to  Paris  to  claim  her  share  of 
the  West  Indian  inheritance,  destiny  so  arranging  it 
that,  while  her  husband  went  to  the  East,  she  would 
go  to  the  West. 

Except  for  the  children's  sake,  Caroline  would  have 
been  wholly  glad  of  the  distraction  from  the  sorrow  of 
the  parting.  She  had  been  too  much  accustomed  to  a 
roving  life  in  her  childhood  to  look  forward  with  com- 
placency to  spending  five  or  seven  years  as  a  sober 
matron  either  with  Uncle  and  Aunt  Darpent  at  Wal- 
wyn,  or  with  her  mother-in-law  at  Downford,  with  no 
particular  interest  at  present  except  a  boy  of  three, 
and  a  girl  of  four,  both  their  grandmother's  treasures. 
There  would  be  plenty  of  time  to  devote  herself  to 
being  a  mother  to  them  after  Mrs.  Trimmer's  most 
approved  system,  when  she  should  have  secured  their 
fortune,  and  renewed  her  friendship  with  the  cousins 
whom  she  recollected  with  affection,  increasing  as  she 
was  longer  and  longer  separated  from  them. 

Her  husband  had  a  few  qualms  as  he  bethought  him- 
self that  Paris  was  a  wicked  place,  as  he  had  always 
understood ;  but  she  declared  that  in  all  the  years  she 
had  lived  there  she  had  not  seen  any  harm ;  but  con- 
sidering that  she  had  spent  six  years  in  a  convent,  and 
six  weeks  in  the  care  of  kindly  and  correct  matrons  as 
SLJeunejille,  he  was  not  greatly  impressed  by  her  experi- 


78  THE    RELEASE  part  ii 

ence ;  but  he  had  full  confidence  in  her  principles  if 
not  in  her  discretion,  and  he  thought  that  she  was 
really  less  likely  to  act  foolishly  where  she  had  to  use 
judgment  for  self-protection,  than  if  she  were  left  to 
despairing  impatience  of  the  tedium  of  a  monotonous 
life.  She  was  very  fond  of,  and  obedient  to  his  mother, 
but  her  uncle's  wife  always  vexed  her  and  impelled 
her  to  resistance.  For  at  four-and-twenty  years,  Caro- 
line Aylmer  was  still  the  same  spirited  and  impulsive 
being  she  had  been  at  seventeen,  and  if  her  husband 
loved  her  the  better  for  these  characteristics,  and  her 
Uncle  Darpent  was  highly  entertained  by  her,  her  aunt 
did  not  delight  in  these  tokens  of  French  extraction. 
The  two  homes  which  claimed  her,  at  Walwyn,  and  at 
Downford,  were  not  so  far  apart  as  to  obviate  friction. 
So  he  was  not  sorry  that  a  few  months  of  his  absence 
should  be  spent  in  seeing  something  of  the  world,  which 
would  probably  make  it  easier  for  her  to  settle  down 
quietly  for  the  remainder  of  the  time,  and  he  did  not 
reckon  on  her  absence  lasting  above  half  a  year. 

An  old  friend  of  her  naval  da}rs,  Harry  Norton,  was 
cruising  in  the  Channel  in  a  gun  brig,  and  putting  in 
at  Plymouth  from  time  to  time  for  provisions ;  and  he 
undertook  to  take  her  safely  across  to  Havre,  and  see 
her  farther  on  her  journey  to  Paris,  so  soon  as  the 
Ouclenarcle  had  sailed. 


CHAPTER    II 

THE    HOPES    OF    FRANCE 

When  the  wrong  shall  be  right. 

Scott. 

Commander  Norton  did  not  lose  sight  of  Mrs. 
Aylmer  till  he  had  not  only  landed  her  at  Havre,  but 
had  arranged  for  her  journey  to  Paris  in  company 
with  a  deputy  of  the  newly  summoned  tiers  etat  of  the 
National  Assembly,  whose  wTife  was  accompanying 
him,  and  who  was  glad  to  let  the  English  lady  share 
their  roomy  chaise  de  poste.  The  said  deputy,  M.  Nor- 
mand,  was  a  notary,  who  had  had  dealings  enough  with 
England  to  be  able  to  hold  converse  with  the  com- 
mander, and  to  promise  every  attention  to  the  lady. 
His  wife  wras  one  of  the  well-educated,  highly  culti- 
vated women  of  the  middle  class  then  numerous  in 
France.  Captain  Norton  supped  with  them  when 
committing  Mrs.  Aylmer  to  their  charge,  and  was  well 
pleased  with  all  he  saw  of  them. 

Caroline  had  wept  her  first  tears  out  when  her 
husband  went  out  of  sight  in  the  pilot  boat,  and  she 
had  been  so  long  on  the  way  that  even  Madame 
Normand  was  not  scandalised  by  her  being  able  to 
eat  and  speak  by  the  time  they  came  together.  Indeed 
the  good  lady  herself  wras  only  just  presentable  after 

79 


80  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

the  tears  it  had  cost  her  to  dispose  of  her  daughter 
en  pension  at  a  convent,  but  she  was  full  of  intense 
enthusiasm,  and  Caroline,  who  had  been  living  in  a 
world  where  port-admirals,  post-captains,  first  and 
second  lieutenants,  ship's  carpenters,  and  boatswains 
played  the  chief  part,  found  herself  awakened  to  the 
new  state  of  affairs  in  France,  and  the  hopes  that  all 
abuses  were  to  be  reformed,  all  unjust  burdens  re- 
moved, all  invidious  distinctions  abolished.  When 
the  carriage  passed  a  hay-field,  where  a  bailiff,  or 
mayhap  a  lay  brother,  was  superintending  the  com- 
pulsory labour  of  the  tenants  for  the  lord  of  the  soil, 
Madame  jSTormand  triumphantly  cried  out  that  such 
toils  would  soon  be  no  more,  and  her  husband  quoted 
the  line 

Sic  vos  non  vobis,  mellificatis  apes. 

When  on  entering  the  fresh  Province  of  the  "  He  de 
France,"  their  passports  were  vise",  and  their  luggage 
overhauled  as  if  they  were  on  the  borders  of  a  foreign 
country  ;  and  when  the  octroi  was  demanded  at  the 
gates  of  every  city,  the  Xormands  submitted  as  a 
matter  of  course,  but  sighed  with  envy  and  yet  with 
hope,  when  their  fellow-traveller  told  them  that  she 
could  travel  from  Berwick  to  Land's  End  without  any 
such  restrictions.  Monsieur  Kormand  knew  it,  but  to 
his  wife  it  seemed  too  good  to  be  true.  He  was  a 
cautious  man,  over-prudent,  his  wife  said,  and  would 
not  let  her  talk  freely  in  the  inns ;  but  on  the  roads, 
between  the  avenues  of  poplars,  and  the  vineyards, 
or  corn-fields,  her  discourse  was  free :  now  of  the 
liberties  of  Greece  and  Some,  soon  to  be  rivalled  in 
France ;  now  of  the  cruel  exactions  and  injustice 
suffered  by  her  friends  and  acquaintances;    now  of 


chap,  ii  THE   HOPES   OF   FRANCE  81 

the  horrid  extravagance  and  dissipation  imputed  to 
the  Queen,  and  implicitly  believed  by  nearly  all  the 
country. 

New  times  were  coming  in,  and  all  would  be  liberty 
and  prosperity  for  every  one.  Nothing  unpleasant 
was  there  on  the  journey,  not  even  the  impertinence 
of  a  postilion,  or  —  as  the  deputy  declared  —  even  the 
kicking  of  a  horse,  but  madame  believed  it  would  be 
set  right  by  the  tiers  etat. 

"  The  coming  of  the  coquecigriies,"  said  her  husband, 
who  liked  to  tease  her. 

There  was  a  great  sweetness  and  charm  about  her 
which  won  Caroline's  heart,  and  the  two  mothers  in- 
dulged in  infantine  anecdotes  and  comparisons  of  their 
children,  and  made  great  friends  of  one  another,  before 
the  great  Percheron  horses  were  halted  at  the  barri&res 
of  Paris ;  and  while  altercations  were  going  on  over  the 
luggage  and  the  octroi,  Caroline  saw  a  familiar  face. 
M.  de  Limours,  or  as  he  was  now  called,  M.  de  Nide- 
merle,  had  brought  his  carriage  to  fetch  her,  and  in  it 
she  found  Melanie,  as  bright  and  charming  as  ever, 
and  they  threw  themselves  into  each  other's  arms  with 
tears  of  joy. 

Caroline  found  the  French  side  of  her  nature  com- 
ing to  the  front,  and  her  tears,  always  checked  in 
England,  flowing  almost  as  readily  as  those  of  her 
cousins,  especially  when  she  met  Cecile  at  the  Hotel 
de  Nidemerle,  in  her  long  nun-like  veil  of  widow- 
hood. It  was  the  old  quarters,  for  since  her  father's 
death  Madame  de  Nidemerle  had  repaired  to  the  old 
"Thrushes'  Nest,"  as  she  said;  and  the  Marquisate 
being  the  higher  title,  it  had  been  assumed  by  her 
husband,  who  was  properly  Marquis  de  Nidemerle 
Limours.     Old  Zelie,  her  wool  turned  white,  received 


82  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

her  picaninny  with,  rapture,  and  by  and  by  the  cous- 
ins sat  round  their  dinner-table  eagerly  talking  by 
the  light  of  the  wax  chandeliers.  The  party  included 
the  boy  whom  Caroline  had  last  seen  hung  in  a  scarf 
round  Melanie's  neck ;  and  who  was  advanced  to  the 
dignity  of  a  velvet  gold-laced  coat,  silk  stockings,  lace 
cravat,  hair  powdered  and  tied  in  a  queue,  a  tiny 
sword,  the  title  of  Monsieur  cle  Bellaise,  and  the  pos- 
session of  an  Abbe  for  a  tutor,  —  a  clever-looking 
young  man  in  a  silken  soutane,  with  his  jabot  (broad 
black  bands)  fringed  with  white,  who  sat  at  the  bot- 
tom of  the  table,  but  joined  in  the  conversation  freely ; 
especially  when  M.  de  Nidemerle  began  to  tease  his 
son  about  the  little  sword,  which  was  a  late  acquisition, 
and  the  little  play  in  Berquin's  Magasin  des  JEnfants, 
where  the  passionate  boy  is  allowed  to  wear  a  sword 
on  condition  of  not  drawing  it.  He  does  draw  it,  in  a 
fit  of  anger,  and  finds  it  a  turkey  feather. 

It  was  a  great  amusement  to  declare  that  such  a 
catastrophe  was  in  store  for  Gerard,  for  he  was  allowed 
his  Christian  name,  the  first  Bellaise  so  addressed  for 
at  least  a  hundred  years,  symptom  of  the  greater  ease 
and  familiarity  setting  in  with  all  classes.  His  sister, 
Agathe,  was  a  pensionnaire  in  the  old  convent  of  Ste. 
Lucie,  where  her  aunt  boarded. 

"  I  tried  to  keep  her  with  me  as  long  as  I  could," 
said  Melanie,  "after  the  present  fashion;  but  it  was 
too  inconvenient  (cela  me  genait  trop),  so  I  placed  her 
with  my  sister,  at  least  till  we  sail  for  Ste.  Marie 
Galante." 

"  Oh !  do  you  think  of  going  thither  ?  " 

"Certainly,  my  dear  cousin.  My  husband  thinks 
that  otherwise  our  affairs  will  never  come  to  a  good 
conclusion." 


CHAr.  ii  THE   HOPES   OF   FRANCE  83 

"  Yes,  Melanie  is  right.  Only  personal  inspection 
can  bring  those  Creole  lawyers  to  a  division  of  the 
simi  due  to  us,  or  enable  me  to  decide  whether  to  sell 
the  property." 

"  And  I  should  much  like  to  see  the  old  abode,  of 
which  my  mother  told  me  so  much,  the  palms  and  the 
sugar-canes  and  the  devoted  slaves." 

"  Ah  !  mayhap  they  will  be  less  devoted  now,  if  the 
general  spirit  has  infected  them,"  said  the  Abbe. 
"  Madame  has  a  grand  power  in  her  hands." 

"  Emancipation  !  Ah,  to  see  all  those  poor  negroes 
kneeling  at  my  feet,  and  to  cry  '  you  are  free  ! '  "  ex- 
claimed Melanie  with  clasped  hands. 

"  The  Government  may  take  that  out  of  our  hands," 
said  Monsieur  cle  ]STidemerle,  "  if  matters  proceed  as  I 
hear  whispered.  I  should  like  to  sell  the  estate  before 
ruin  becomes  certain." 

"  But,"  cried  Melanie,  "  if  we  acted  of  our  own  free 
will,  these  grateful  blacks  would  love  us,  and  serve  us 
willingly." 

"  It  would  be  difficult  for'them  not  to  love  madame," 
said  the  Abbe  with  a  bow.  "  They  will  think  an  angel 
of  freedom  has  appeared  to  them." 

"  Will  you  come  with  us,  cousin  ?  "  asked  Melanie ; 
"  it  will  be  a  distraction,  and  you  are  an  experienced 
traveller." 

"Yes  indeed,  I  should  love  the  voyage  and  the 
tropics,  but  I  could  not  go  so  far  from  my  children." 

"  Ah !  you  will  think  it  over.  If  my  sister  would 
join  us,  she  would  recover  her  spirits,  and  we  should 
be  the  most  charming  party  in  the  world !  Consider 
of  it,  sister.  Would  not  our  cousin  induce  you  to 
reconsider  your  decision  ?  " 

"  You  are  very  good,  sister,  but  I  wish  for  no  dis- 


84  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

traction.  Devotion  and  the  memory  of  my  dear  hus- 
band are  enough  for  me/'  and  she  began  to  weep,  and 
hurried  from  the  table,  attended  by  her  sister. 

M.  de  Nidemerle  handed  Caroline  out,  and  as  she 
recollected  the  manoeuvres  to  prevent  M.  de  Henisson 
from  falling  in  love  with  herself,  she  wondered  whether 
he  had  done  much  to  inspire  this  devoted  affection  in 
the  poor  little  Cecile,  whose  feelings  had  been  appar- 
ently unstirred  when  last  they  met.  But  that  might 
have  been  only  decorum.  Caroline  might  rejoice  that 
her  own  courtship  by  George  Aylmer  had  been  un- 
known to  those  whom  it  would  have  scandalised. 
Yet  their  code  was  relaxed  in  some  cases,  though  in 
others  it  was  as  strict  as  ever,  and  the  uncertainties 
might  create  perplexities  as  she  soon  perceived. 

"  When  is  Felicite  de  Monfichet  to  be  professed  ?  " 
asked  Melanie. 

"  I  cannot  quite  tell.  It  depends  on  when  her  uncle 
the  Bishop  can  attend,  or  the  relations  of  Madeleine  de 
Torcy,  who  is  a  little  saint,  quite  as  eager  to  take  the 
vows  as  Felicite  is  to  avoid  them,"  replied  Cecile. 

"I  thought  there  were  regulations  to  prevent  peo- 
ple from  being  made  nuns  without  a  vocation,"  said 
Caroline. 

"  Ah !  bah !  there  are  ways  of  impressing  a  vocation, 
especially  when  one's  uncle  is  a  bishop,"  said  M.  de 
Nidemerle. 

"And  one's  affections  are  ill  placed,"  added  his 
wife.  "  Affections !  as  if  a  young  girl  ought  to  have 
any.     But  it  is  all  her  parents'  fault." 

"  Who  is  it,  what  is  it  ?  "  asked  Caroline  eagerly. 

"  She  is  the  daughter  of  Charlotte  de  Solivet  —  you 
remember  her,  Caroline.  She  had  la  tete  exaltee  even 
in  the  convent." 


ciiAr.  ii  THE    HOPES   OF   FRANCE  85 

"  She  was  one  of  l  les  grandest  I  had  a  quarrel 
with  her  about  the  British  flag." 

"Ah!  never  mention  your  flag,  you  enemy  that 
you  were ! "  said  Melanie,  shaking  her  head  at  her. 
"Yes,  it  was  Solivet  who  appealed  to  Soeur  St. 
Hilaire." 

"She  was  married  soon,  I  think.  Was  not  she  a 
kind  of  relation  ?  " 

"  Far,  far  away,  in  the  fiftieth  degree,  I  believe. 
Yes,  she  married  the  Baron  de  Monfichet,  and  their 
heads  were  both  turned  with  philosophers,  and  ency- 
clopedists, and  I  know  not  what,  and  they  must  needs 
keep  their  daughters  at  home,  and  give  them  an  edu- 
cation after  Madame  de  Genlis'  system,  with  an  Eng- 
lish governess,  picked  up  I  know  not  where,  with  all 
your  English  fashions.  No  care,  no  supervision,  the 
poor  girls  left  free  to  their  games  and  walks  with 
whom  they  would  in  the  garden  and  avenue,  and  that 
when  M.  de  Monfichet  had  filled  his  house  with  mis- 
erable roturiers,  men  of  science,  about  whom  Charlotte 
raved,  but  who  had  no  notion  of  les  bienseances." 

"Are  you  speaking  of  Beaudesert,  mon  amie  ?" 
said  M.  de  Nidemerle.  "A  remarkably  handsome, 
agreeable  man,  well-bred,  and  full  of  information ;  I 
was  charmed  with  him,  though,  as  to  his  ideas,  they 
were  too  chimerical." 

"  It  was  all  very  well  for  you,  but  if  it  had  been 
your  daughter !  Figure  to  yourself  la  petite  sotte  re- 
fusing M.  le  Due  de  Drelincourt !  There  were  tears, 
sobs,  attacks  of  nerves.  I  know  not  what  faintings, 
fevers,  and  even  avowals  that  her  heart  was  oc- 
cupied, and  it  would  be  a  sin  to  accept  one  man 
when  she  preferred  another.  What  well-brought-up 
demoiselle  knew  that  hearts  existed  in  our  day  ?  " 


86  THE    RELEASE  part  ii 

"  Surely  M.  Beaudesert  had  not  the  presumption  to 
address  her  ?  "  exclaimed  Cecile. 

"  What  do  I  know  ?  The  wretch  had  the  temerity 
to  avow  to  monsieur,  her  father,  that  he  was  only 
waiting  for  her  eighteenth  year  to  declare  his  suit, 
when  she  would  be  old  enough  to  decide,  and  his 
invention  would  be  completed  and  accepted ! " 
"  And  what  is  he  ?  "  asked  Caroline. 
"Bourgeois,  mere  bourgeois"  said  Melanie.  "You 
knew  his  family,  M.  l'Abbe,  I  believe  ?  " 

"His  brother  was  in  college  with  me,  madame," 
replied  the  tutor.  "  Their  father  is  a  doctor  of  medi- 
cine at  Eouen,  a  man  clever  and  highly  esteemed,  as 
well  as  sincerely  religious ;  his  wife  really  devout." 

"  Ah,  that  might  well  be.  I  remember  him  at  the 
soirees  of  the  Monfichets." 

"  You  came  home  in  raptures  with  him,"  said  M.  de 
Nidemerle. 

"Little  knowing  what  was  coming!  Well,  M.  de 
Monfichet's  brother,  the  Bishop  of  Charmilly,  was 
called  in,  and  he  so  spoke  to  Felicite  that  though  she 
remained  obstinate  against  the  Duke  of  Drelincourt, 
she  was  alarmed  at  the  crime  of  disobedience,  and 
consented  willingly  to  be  sent  to  the  convent,  where 
she  has  made  her  novitiate,  while  the  Duke  takes  her 
younger  sister." 

"Poor  child,"  sighed  Caroline;  "and  M.  Beaudesert, 
what  has  become  of  him  ?  " 

"  Chasse,  of  course,"  said  Madame  de  jSTidemerle. 
"The  Count  de  Kocheval,  a  Louisianian  nobleman 
of  large  property,"  said  the  Abbe,  "took  him  to 
New  Orleans  to  act  as  tutor,  and  to  study  the 
natural  science  of  the  Mississippi,  and  perfect  his 
invention." 


citap.  ii  THE   HOPES   OF   FRANCE  87 

"  Let  us  hope  he  will  console  himself  with  an  alli- 
gator," said  Melanie. 

"  Who  knows  what  changes  may  be  in  store  ?  "  said 
Caroline. 

"  Not  such  as  can  compel  us  to  sully  our  blood  with 
bourgeois  strain,"  said  the  Marquis. 

"And  el  propos"  cried  his  wife,  "to-morrow  the 
States-General  go  in  procession  to  hear  a  sermon  at 
the  Church  of  St.  Louis  —  Mademoiselle  de  Villy,  my 
court  sempstress,  has  promised  us  a  window !  You 
will  come,  my  cousin  ?  Happily,  one  can  go  en 
berg&re" 

Caroline  willingly  agreed. 

"  And  thou,  my  sister  ?  It  is  useless,  I  fear,  to  ask 
thee." 

"  Ah  yes,  a  thousand  thanks,  dear  Melanie,  but  the 
Mother  Abbess  has  convoked  all  the  ladies  who  cling 
to  her  to  hear  a  mass  in  our  chapelle,  and  pray  that 
this  new  order  of  things  may  be  for  the  welfare,  not 
the  damage  of  France  and  of  the  Church." 

So  in  effect  was  done  by  the  Duchess  of  Ayen,  her 
daughters,  and  many  others  of  the  pious  women  of 
France  on  the  day  of  the  opening  of  the  States- 
General.  We  cannot  help  thinking  of  the  righteous 
men  who,  Ezekiel  foretold,  should  deliver  their  own 
souls,  though  they  could  not  avert  the  sore  judgments 
which  generation  after  generation  had  been  preparing. 
The  scourges  became  in  their  case  assuredly  palms. 


CHAPTER   III 

THE    STATES-GENERAL 

Thou  many-headed  monster  thing, 
Oh  !  who  would  wish  to  be  thy  king  ? 

Scott. 

With  no  forebodings  did  the  lively  party  set  forth 
in  the  great  Nidemerle  coach,  the  ladies  with  powdered 
curls  under  big  hats,  cocked  up  over  one  ear,  and  deco- 
rated with  feathers,  while  their  brocade,  long-waisted 
bodices  were  kilted  up  over  monstrous  pockets,  and 
coloured  silk  quilted  skirts.  Melanie  had  put  her 
cousin  into  one  of  her  own  chip  hats,  with  green 
ribbons  and  green  tipped  feathers.  The  unfashionable 
cut  of  the  rest  of  the  dress  did  not  signify,  as  they 
would  be  nearly  squeezed  to  death  by  the  crowd  at 
Versailles.  Melanie  showed  her  cousin  that  she  car- 
ried in  her  pocket,  not  only  her  opera-glass,  but  a 
whole  provision  of  more  or  less  solid  cakes  and  com- 
fits known  by  various  titles. 

The  road  to  Versailles  was  thronged,  so  that  the 
four  horses  could  make  little  way,  and  could  only 
proceed  in  regular  line  behind  another  coach,  creeping 
along  in  like  manner;  and  streets  and  lanes  were 
densely  crowded  with  men  and  women  of  every  degree 
below  the  aristocracy,  some  with  looks  of  hope  and 
joy,  but  others  with  scowls  of  ill-will  that  might  seem 


chap,  in  THE   STATES-GENERAL  89 

as  auguries  of  the  rage  of  the  monster  about  to  be 
awakened.  The  trees  were  blossoming  in  the  first 
glories  of  summer,  and  the  foliage  was  bright  and  deli- 
cate ;  but  the  multitude  of  carriages  of  all  kinds,  and 
the  troops  of  foot-passengers  left  little  space  for  the 
beauty  of  the  morning. 

They  reached  at  length  the  tall  stone  houses  of 
Versailles,  and  proceeding  at  a  foot's  pace,  and  ex- 
changing greetings  with  numerous  gentlemen,  they 
reached  the  house  where  Mademoiselle  Villy  rented 
a  floor.  She  was,  as  Melanie  explained,  a  married 
woman,  though  the  title  of  madame  was  not  given  to 
tradespeople  in  the  days  of  the  old  regime ;  and  though 
not  a  regular  dressmaker,  she  gained  her  livelihood  as 
a  couturibre  by  being  ready  to  repair  damages  to  the 
toilettes  of  ladies  who  did  not  bring  a  maid  to  the 
crowded  palace,  or  who  were  only  there  for  a  few 
hours. 

M.  de  Nidemerle,  who  had  ridden,  was  at  the  door 
to  receive  them,  as  well  as  three  other  gentlemen. 
The  crowd,  still  polite  by  habit,  made  way  for  them 
to  pass,  and  the  master  of  the  house,  whose  livery 
showed  him  to  be  valet  to  some  gentleman  at  court, 
led  them  up  steep,  narrow,  not  over-clean  stairs,  to 
his  wife's  apartments,  bare  wainscoted  rooms,  but 
with  two  windows  with  balconies,  whence  her  stock- 
in-trade  had  been  removed,  and  whither  she  marshalled 
Madame  de  Nidemerle,  her  cousin,  and  some  other 
select  customers  to  chairs  overhanging  the  street,  espe- 
cially the  Vicomtesse  de  Champcery,  a  quiet,  pensive 
woman,  who  belonged  to  the  same  window.  Early  as 
it  was,  there  was  interest  enough  below,  above,  every- 
where. Each  window  on  the  same  level  swarmed  with 
ladies  in  their  hats  and  feathers,  higher  up  were  the 


90  THE    RELEASE  pakt  ii 

eager  faces  of  countless  bourgeoises,  and  the  very  roofs 
and  their  parapets,  even  the  chimneys,  were  filled  with 
spectators,  while  the  street  below  was  equally  thronged 
behind  the  soldiers,  who  stood  keeping  a  line  for  the 
procession. 

There  was  a  long  time  to  wait,  but  there  was  too 
much  variety  for  weariness  to  set  in.  Melanie  was  in 
the  midst  of  acquaintances,  among  whom  she  moved 
from  her  own  balcony  to  the  next,  introducing  her 
cousin,  who  found  herself  renewing  an  old  convent 
friendship ;  but  the  recognitions  of  the  gentlemen  in 
the  street,  and  watching  for  the  procession,  took  up 
most  of  the  interest. 

Caroline  could  not  understand  why  so  many  nobles 
were  there.  Why  were  they  not  peers  in  the  proces- 
sion ? 

Melanie  laughed.  "Ah,  my  dear,  the  hosts  there 
would  be !  No ;  nobles  used  only  to  sit  who  were 
peers  of  France,  chosen  out  by  the  king.  Now,  heaven 
knows  how  chosen  !  " 

"  Elected  from  their  own  order  as  deputies,"  said 
Madame  de  Champcer}',  "  four  hundred  of  them,  four 
hundred  clergy  also,  and  the  same  number  of  the  tiers 
e'tat.  Ah,  may  this  not  be  a  bouleversement  of  the  state 
when  such  hands  meddle  with  it  ?  " 

"  They  will  renew  it !  "  cried  Melanie.  "  We  shall 
hear  no  more  outcries  for  bread.  Ah  me,  what  a  winter 
we  had  last  year  !     Who  is  that  making  signs  ?  " 

"That  is  the  clever  American,  M.  Morris." 

"  With  a  wooden  leg  ?  "  asked  Caroline ;  "  but  with 
the  air  of  a  would-be  man  of  fashion  ?  " 

"Ah  yes,"  said  Melanie.  "He  does  not  resemble 
your  old  friend  Franklin,  with  whom,  if  I  remember 
right,  you  talked   a   little   treason,  my  dear   cousin. 


chap,  in  THE   STATES-GENERAL  91 

He  has  friends  among  the  Palais  Koyal  clique,  whom 
I  do  not  love,  and  is  always  writing  epigrams  to  them 
in  English,  which  they  don't  understand." 

"  And  therefore  admire  the  more,"  said  Madame  de 
Champcery. 

Here  there  was  an  alarm  that  the  procession  was 
coming,  but  it  was  only  that  the  mob  were  hailing 
M.  Necker  as  he  passed  to  take  his  place  among  the 
Ministry. 

"  He  is  to  bring  a  panacea  for  all  the  woes  of 
France,"  said  Madame  de  Champcery ;  "  but  I  doubt 
whether  human  power  can  do  that." 

"  Certainly  not  M.  Necker,  a  mere  banker,  and  not 
even  a  Frenchman,"  said  Madame  de  Nidemerle. 

"  Who  can  ?  "  asked  Caroline. 

"  The  finger  of  God,"  said  Madame  de  Champcery 
solemnly.     "  May  it  not  be  the  finger  of  vengeance  !  " 

But  Melanie  chattered  on.  "His  daughter  —  you 
remember  Germaine  Necker,  cousin?  " 

"  Ah,  yes,  and  '  redressez-vous.'  " 

They  all  laughed,  and  Melanie  continued. 

"Well,  she  is  more  magnificent  than  ever.  An 
ambassadress,  if  you  please.  She  has  married  the 
Baron  de  Stael,  ambassador  of  the  King  of  Sweden, 
and  she  has  a  salon  and  meddles  with  everything  — 
literature,  politics,  society,  and  art." 

"  She  is  a  very  able  woman,"  said  Madame  de 
Champcery,  "full  of  esprit." 

"  Of  course,  but  she  is  frightful,"  cried  Melanie. 

"  Except  her  eyes " 

"  Eyes  that  transfix  one  and  judge  one,  all  at  once. 
Oh !  shelter  me  from  those  eyes  !  And  she  knows  not 
how  to  dress  herself." 

"  She  will  make  a  sensation  by  and  by." 


92  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

"  What,  with  that  face?  " 

"No,  not  that  face.  She  has  to  see  and  weigh 
much,  and  outgrow  the  prepossessions  of  youth,"  said 
Madame  de  Champcery. 

"  Ah  !  they  are  coming.  Hear  the  shouts  !  hear  the 
band!" 

It  was  true  this  time.  Along  the  street  marched, 
four  abreast,  the  procession  of  the  States-General ; 
first  the  tiers  etat  or  commons,  in  plain  black  suits, 
long  white  cravats,  and  black  cloaks  over  one  shoulder, 
in  the  dress  of  their  order,  in  the  time  when  it  had 
been  last  convoked,  in  the  days  of  Louis  XIII.,  1614. 
In  the  long  stream,  Caroline  looked  for  M.  Xormand ; 
but  presently  Melanie  cried  out,  "  Ah  !  ah !  can  that 
be  le  Comte  de  Mirabeau  ?  "  as  there  rolled  along  a 
gigantic  figure,  with  a  seamed  and  hideous  face,  of 
a  strange  keenness. 

"  Mirabeau,  without  doubt,"  said  Madame  de  Champ- 
eery.     "He  was  rejected  by  the  noblesse." 

"  Rightly !  And  so  he  degrades  his  rank  !  Fi  done ! " 
The  black  stream  of  commoners  having  flowed  On, 
then  came  what  filled  Madame  de  Nidemerle  with 
delight ;  the  nobles  in  full  cavalier  array,  with  float- 
ing plumes,  velvet  cloaks,  and  coats  rich  with  em- 
broidery. She  was  in  a  rapture,  kissing  her  hand  to 
friends  who  bowed,  and  naming  them  to  Caroline,  and 
only  indignant  when  she  saw  the  red  and  bloated  face 
of  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  as  he  marched  there  instead 
of  as  a  prince  of  the  blood  royal.  Jewels  and  col- 
lars of  St.  Louis  and  of  the  St.  Esprit  glittered  on 
their  necks  and  shoulders,  fleurs-de-lys  were  on  their 
blue  velvet  backs  ;  they  made  a  gorgeous  show.  The 
bishops  who  followed  were  a  less  gay  but  equally 
grand  spectacle,  with  their  purple  robes,  surmounted 


chat,  in  THE    STATES-GENERAL  93 

with  white,  richly  trimmed  with  broad  and  beautiful 
lace  from  the  looms  of  Flanders,  in  contrast  to  the 
plain  black  cassocks  and  white  edged  bands  of  the 
cures  who  attended  them.  Several  bishops,  besides 
the  magnificent  Metropolitan  of  Rheims,  were  pointed 
out,  Bishop  de  Monfichet  of  Charmilly  for  one.  "  Ah ! 
there  he  is  !  Now  Felicite  will  be  professed ! "  said 
Madame  de  Nidemerle. 

"  Poor  girl,"  Caroline  murmured  to  herself  in  Eng- 
lish, as  she  looked  at  the  dark,  stern  face,  and  thought 
how  hard  resistance  must  have  been,  not  wondering 
that  the  child  had  yielded. 

"  Ah !  there's  the  Bishop  of  Autun,"  as  a  small  fig- 
ure limped  by  in  the  procession.  "  My  husband  says 
he  is  the  cleverest  man  in  France !  but  how  lame  he 
is." 

"  That  was  from  carelessness  in  the  cottage  where 
he  was  nursed,"  said  Madame  de  Champcery,  "you 
know  he  is  really  the  eldest  son  of  the  Count  de 
Talleyrand  Perigord,  but  he  was  put  out  of  the  sue- 
cession  and  compelled  to  enter  religion  on  account  of 
his  infirmity." 

"  Nevertheless  he  is  making  his  way  both  in  pleas- 
ure and  in  politics,"  laughed  Madame  de  Nidemerle ; 
at  which  Madame  de  Champcery  shook  her  head  and 
said,  "  There  may  be  excuses  for  him,  in  the  manner 
in  which  he  has  been  treated." 

Caroline,  often  in  after-life,  thought  of  those  words, 
and  the  little  halting  form,  when  the  name  of  Talley- 
rand came  before  her. 

Now,  however,  all  were  absorbed  in  watching  the 
march  of  the  King  himself,  with  his  court  preceding 
him,  the  Prince  of  Conde  and  the  young  Duke  of 
Enghien,  and  next,  the  Counts  of  Provence  and  Artois, 


94  THE   RELEASE  part  11 

his  brothers,  immediately  before  him.  All  like  him 
in  their  robes  of  blue,  sprinkled  with  fleurs-de-lys. 
Ecstatic  cries  of  "Vive  le  Boi!"  broke  from  the 
populace,  while  all  the  ladies  in  the  windows  rose 
and  waved  their  handkerchiefs;  Melanie  shed  tears 
of  enthusiasm. 

"  Ah ! "  said  Madame  de  Champcery,  "  this  is  but  the 
beginning.  Pray  that  this  may  not  be  the  first  stage 
in  a  general  overthrow." 


CHAPTER   IV 

THE    OTHER    SIDE    OF    THE    QUESTION 

There  was  a  lady  loved  a  swine. 

Old  Song. 

Excitements  came  thickly  upon  the  Hotel  de 
Nidemerle.  Only  the  day  after  the  opening  of  the 
States-General,  an  invitation  arrived  from  the  Mother 
Prioress  of  Ste.  Lucie  to  Madame  de  Mdemerle  to  be 
present  at  the  profession  of  Mesdemoiselles  de  Torcy 
and  de  Monfichet,  with  the  further  intimation  that  she 
should  be  happy  to  receive  Madame  Aylmer,  though 
unhappily  that  old  pensionnaire  had  not  continued  in 
the  bosom  of  the  Church  Catholic. 

Before,  however,  the  appointed  day,  Caroline  had 
found  that  in  the  hurry  of  parting  at  the  barri&re,  she 
had  carried  off  a  scarf  of  Madame  Kormand's,  which 
she  wished  to  restore.  She  had  her  address,  and  de- 
sired to  take  the  parcel  herself.  Melanie  demurred  a 
little,  but  after  all,  Caroline  was  only  of  bourgeois 
degree,  and  moreover  wras  ready  to  send  for  a  fiacre 
on  her  own  account,  since  the  streets  were  in  such  a 
state  of  dirt  that  no  lady  could  attempt  walking  in 
them,  hardly  a  gentleman  in  his  silk  stockings.  So 
Melanie  lent  her  own  sedan-chair,  and  a  lackey  to 
keep  watch  over  the  bearers  and  the  lady's  dignity. 

95 


96  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

It  was  a  splendid  affair,  with  a  marquis's  coronet  on 
the  top,  the  family  arms  quartered  on  the  back,  and 
Paul  and  Virginie  under  a  very  conventional  palm- 
tree  making  love,  and  another  representing  Virginie 
lying  drowned,  and  Paul  tearing  his  hair.  The  inside 
was  daintily  lined  and  cushioned  with  blue  satin,  and 
there  Caroline  seated  herself,  smiling  over  the  wonder- 
ful notions  of  palm-trees  and  tropical  scenery. 

Once  or  twice,  when  they  jostled  against  some  cart 
or  loaded  horse,  she  heard  growls  about  aristocrats, 
but  she  arrived  safely  at  the  doorway  of  the  passage 
of  an  enormously  tall  house,  with  stories  projecting 
one  over  the  other,  and  the  lackey,  who  looked  very 
scornful  all  the  while,  inquired  of  the  concierge  for 
Madame  Normand,  and  was  answered  "  Au  troisi&me 
—  second  down  to  the  left."  Up  went  Caroline,  up 
stone  stairs,  a  good  deal  dirtier  than  the  Versailles 
sempstress',  and  by  and  by  the  footman  found  the 
door,  and  knocked.  It  was  opened  by  Madame  Nor- 
mand  herself,  who  cried  out  with  joy  at  the  sight  of 
her  travelling  companion,  and  admitted  her  into  an 
odd  little  anteroom,  then  into  a  more  spacious  chamber, 
where  the  bed  was  in  an  alcove  partly  shrouded  with 
curtains,  and  over  the  little  stove  Madame  Normand 
seemed  to  have  been  cooking  a  little  mess  of  some 
kind.  She  had  a  large  white  cap  over  her  hair,  and 
a  short  linen  wrapper  over  her  stuff  petticoat,  not 
exactly  the  trim  in  which  English  ladies  were  wont 
to  attend  to  their  housekeeping  avocations ;  but  she 
was  not  in  the  least  disconcerted,  as  she  sprang  to  wel- 
come Madame  Aylmer,  and  while  a  pull  here  and  a 
twitch  there  made  her  not  only  presentable  but  co- 
quettish, she  explained  that  this  was  their  only  room, 
but  that  she  made  a  point  of  having  some  gouter  ready 


chap.  iv     THE  OTHER  SIDE  OF  THE  QUESTION  97 

for  her  husband,  in  case  he  failed  to  breakfast  or  dine 
or  sup  with  some  of  his  friends  at  his  club.  Caroline 
wondered  what  she  lived  on  herself,  but  knew  already 
that  much  less  would  suffice  a  little  spare  French- 
woman than  an  Englishwoman. 

The  little  bright-eyed  woman  was  as  full  of  enthusi- 
asm as  ever,  and  could  talk  of  nothing  but  the  cere- 
mony they  had  both  enjoyed.  "One  saw  what  it  was 
to  be  truly  great,"  she  said,  "  when  the  tiers  etat  ap- 
peared in  their  ground.  Simplicity  in  contrast  to  the 
feathers,  and  velvet,  and  frippery  of  the  nobles.  And 
did  you  see  their  faces  ?  " 

"No,  I  was  much  too  high  up." 

"  I  was  better  off  than  you  could  be  in  your  noble 
company.  There  one  only  sees  de  haut  en  bas.  I  was 
almost  on  a  level!  and — pardonnez  moi,  madame  — 
you,  thank  heaven,  are  not  noble." 

"  Oh  no,  as  I  told  you,  we  are  of  the  middle  class, 
gentlefolks,  but  not  what  you  call  gentilshommes" 

"  Yes,  yes.  So  it  will  be  no  impoliteness  to  tell  you 
that  after  the  esprit,  the  intellect,  the  fixed  purpose 
that  I  read  in  the  faces  of  the  tiers  etat,  the  nobles 
looked  to  me  either  faded  and  effete,  or  else  puffed  up 
with  pride,  mere  pegs  on  which  to  display  their  fine 
clothes." 

Caroline  laughed.  "  Ah  !  you  looked  with  prejudiced 
eyes,  madame.  There  is  no  want  of  esprit  among  the 
noblesse." 

"  Esprit  that  is  wasted  in  fireworks  of  conversation." 

"  And  there  is  sense  of  the  need  of  great  reforms." 

Madame  Normand  laughed.  "  How  is  it  with  them 
when  it  touches  their  own  domestic  relations  ?  They 
can  foster  the  bourgeois  in  their  families,  treat  him  as 
an  equal,  enjoy  the  fruit  of  his  labours,  take  to  them- 


98  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

selves  credit  for  the  charm  he  imparts  into  their 
society,  but  let  him  lift  up  his  eyes  to  one  of  their 
daughters  born  in  the  purple  !  Ah  !  bah  !  Roturier  — 
vilain  —  traitre  —  that  is  all  that  is  good  for  him  !  If 
he  escape  in  this  new  reign  a  lettre  de  cachet,  he  must 
be  exiled,  and  she,  la  pauvrette,  is  immured  in  a  con- 
vent, which  is  even  worse,  since  it  is  for  life." 

"  You  remind  me  of  a  case  of  which  I  have  heard." 

"Ah!  is  it  possible  you  should  have  heard  of  my 
cousin,  Henri  Beaudesert  and  his  Felicite,  le  pauvre 
gar  con  ?  " 

"  Is  he  your  cousin  ?  I  am  to  go  to  see  the  young 
lady  professed  next  Sunday." 

"  Alas  !  then  the  immolation  is  to  be  completed." 

"  Tell  me,  oh  tell  me  all.  Would  that  the  poor  girl 
could  be  saved !  " 

"  There  is  no  hope.  She  did  actually  write  to  me 
and  say  she  had  appealed  to  the  Archbishop  of  Paris, 
but  her  letter  must  have  been  suppressed,  for  we  have 
heard  no  more  since  the  governess  left  her  a  year  ago." 

Then  Madame  Normand  went  on  to  say  how  she 
had  been  brought  up  in  the  Beaudesert  family,  and 
had  known  her  cousin  Henri  like  a  brother.  He  was 
very  clever  and  brilliant,  and  had  studied  philosophy 
and  chemistry  at  the  best  schools,  and  carried  his 
researches  further  than  his  teachers  and  text-books. 
He  had  made  the  acquaintance  of  Franklin,  Laplace, 
and  Volta,  and  had  marked  out  electricity  with  all 
the  vehemence  of  new  research  and  discovery.  He 
had  perceived  how  to  render  the  occult  and  marvellous 
powers  practical  for  the  safety  of  ships  as  well  as  of 
houses,  and  had  hoped  to  cause  the  means  of  safety  by 
conducting  away  the  lightning,  available  for  the  safety 
of  ships  and  of  houses,  to  be  adopted  by  the  French 


chap,  iv       THE  OTHER  SIDE  OF  THE  QUESTION         99 

navy.  It  was  a  time  when  men  of  science  were  ca- 
ressed by  the  more  intellectual  nobles  of  France,  and 
philosophy  was  the  fashion.  Monsieur  de  Monfichet 
had  sufficient  knowledge  and  insight  to  appreciate  the 
marvels  that  Henri  Beaudesert  made  known  to  him. 
He  was  connected  with  the  naval  service,  and  hoped 
to  get  the  system  adopted  by  government ;  and  while 
going  through  the  endless  formalities  requisite  for  the 
presentation  of  the  scheme,  the  young  man  had  been 
domesticated  in  his  chateau,  and  lived  on  equal  terms 
with  his  family. 

Of  course,  not  only  was  Beaudesert  too  much  in 
advance  of  his  period  to  be  successful,  but  France  had 
too  many  political  tempests  working  up  for  the  slight- 
est attention  to  be  spared  for  physical  tempests,  and 
the  discoverer  had  the  usual  fate  of  his  kind,  waiting 
and  watching  in  vain  for  an  answer  to  his  statements, 
or  permission  to  demonstrate  his  plans.  His  patron 
had  become  weary  of  him,  and  had  been  derided  for 
putting  forward  projects  so  absurd,  told  that  the  idea 
of  guiding  the  lightning  was  impious  and  sacrilegious, 
and  even  threatened  with  denunciation  as  an  enemy 
who  would  destroy  the  fleet. 

Just  then  occurred  the  resistance  of  his  daughter  to 
the  proposed  marriage.  Under  the  English  governess, 
Miss  Fernley,  Felicite  had  been  allowed  English  free- 
dom in  the  chateau  and  the  gardens;  Beaudesert  had 
even  been  encouraged  by  her  mother  to  instruct  her  in 
natural  science.  They  had  read,  built  castles,  bota- 
nised  together,  and  Henri,  when  certain  of  his  inven- 
tion, and  hopeful  of  the  brilliance  of  success,  had 
trusted  to  such  a  future  as  would  justify  the  crown- 
ing of  his  love  and  hopes. 

He  had  not  indeed  spoken  openly  to  the  girl  her- 


100  THE  RELEASE  part  ii 

self,  but  Miss  Fernley  had  been  his  confidante 
throughout.  She  was  of  mature  age,  and  serious, 
even  stern,  aspect,  but  her  heart  was  full  of  romance. 
She  expected  unheard-of  results  from  Beaudesert's 
invention,  and  was  herself  no  insignificant  con- 
ductor of  the  almost  equally  perilous  sparks  from 
one  young  heart  to  the  other  ;  and  Felicite  thoroughly 
understood  the  attentions  paid  to  her. 

Then  came  the  fatal  disappointment,  when  the 
unfortunate  inventor  was  treated  with  contumely 
proportioned  to  the  disgrace  into  which  his  project 
had  brought  his  patron,  and  aggravated  by  the  dis- 
covery of  the  presumptuous  attachment  to  a  jille  de 
qualite,  a  maiden,  moreover,  who  was  not  to  be  shaken 
in  her  constancy,  and  who  avowed  the  doctrine,  so 
preposterous  in  the  eyes  of  French  parents,  that  it 
would  be  an  absolute  sin  to  give  her  hand  to  one  man 
while  her  heart  belonged  to  another.  Beaudesert 
narrowly  escaped  arrest;  but  the  days  of  Cardinal  de 
Richelieu  were  over,  and  the  King  himself  had  been 
interested  by  some  of  the  experiments,  so  that  it  was 
intimated  to  the  audacious  inventor  and  lover  that  the 
only  safe  course  would  be  to  accept  the  proposals  of 
the  Count  de  Percheval,  who  inhabited  Louisiana, 
then  technically  belonging  to  Spain,  though  settled 
by  France. 

At  Havre  he  and  Miss  Fernley  had  met,  her  con- 
duct, "  infamous  "  as  Madame  de  Monfichet  called  it, 
having  been  discovered,  and  her  passport  forced  upon 
her.  She  was  able  to  bring  him  an  account  of  the  per- 
secution that  poor  Felicite  had  undergone,  and  how 
her  uncle,  the  Bishop  of  Charmilly,  had  forced  on  her 
conscience  that  disobedience  was  a  sin,  and  tried  to 
make  her  believe  that  love  for  an  impious  philosopher 


chap,  iv       THE  OTHER  SIDE  QY  THE  QUESTION       101 


was  a  greater  one.  This  imputation  she  had  entirely- 
rejected,  for,  as  the  Normands  well  knew,  Madame 
Beaudesert  had  been  herself  devote,  with  a  tinge  of 
Jansenism,  and  had  brought  up  her  children  so  as  to 
be  free  from  either  scepticism  or  immorality. 

Felicite,  a  girl  of  unusual  spirit  and  resolution,  was 
not  to  be  shaken  in  her  determination  to  refuse  to 
marry  the  Duke  de  Drelincourt,  or  any  one  else,  and 
she  had  charged  Miss  Fernley  with  a  message  to  that 
effect.  She  was  permitting  herself  to  become  a  novice 
at  Ste.  Lucie,  but  she  had  given  Miss  Fernley  a  letter 
of  protest  to  be  sent  to  the  Archbishop  of  Paris,  and 
had  charged  her  with  messages  of  constancy  to  Henri 
Beaude'sert.  The  governess  had  sufficient  connection 
with  the  household  to  be  able  to  send  her  Henri's 
vows  of  undying  affection,  but  there  all  intercourse 
had  ceased,  a  little  more  than  a  year  ago.  Once  in 
the  convent,  nothing  more  could  be  heard  by  the  Nor- 
mands of  the  poor  girl;  they  could  only  conclude  that 
her  letter  to  the  Archbishop  had  failed;  and  they  only 
knew  that  Beaudesert  was  making  his  way  at  New 
Orleans,  but  heeded  nothing  of  the  successes  that  he 
could  not  share  with  Felicite,  though  still  he  hoped 
against  hope. 

All  Caroline  could  do,  sympathising  as  she  was 
with  all  her  heart,  was  to  promise  to  bring  Madame 
Xormand  a  full  account  of  the  coming  ceremony,  which 
would  be  so  melancholy  in  her  eyes. 


CHAPTER   V 

VOTARESS    AND    VICTIM 

I  hold  you  as  a  thing  ensky'd  and  sainted. 

Measure  for  Measure. 

Much  moved  by  Madame  Normand's  history,  Caro- 
line Aylmer  set  forth  very  early  in  the  morning  with 
her  cousin  to  witness  poor  Eelicite's  profession,  Mela- 
nie  chattering  all  the  way  about  her  regret  that  it  was 
not  the  novitiate  that  was  to  begin ;  that  was  a  cere- 
mony "&  ravir,"  when  the  candidate  appeared  as  a 
bride,  all  in  white,  with  jewels  and  orange  flowers. 
"I  wish  this  was  the  same,"  said  Caroline,  "then  the 
vows  would  not  be  irrevocable." 

"Well  that  they  are,"  returned  Madame  de  Nide- 
merle,  "  you  would  not  see  her  disgrace  her  family !  " 

"You  know  I  am  not  noble." 

"Ah!  you  English,  you  are  droll  —  you  who  are 
almost  a  Ribaumont,  and  whose  husband  would  be 
noble  here  —  you,  too,  wish  to  see  her  married  to  a 
mere  physician." 

"  Come,  Melanie,  do  not  scold  me,  I  feel  already  as 
if  I  were  going  to  school !  Those  old  streets  are  quite 
unchanged,  but  how  empty  they  are!  Only  little 
girls,  with  the  droll  little  babies  rolled  up  in  white 
caps." 

"It  is  a  disease!     All  the  elders  throng  to  stand 
round  the  clubs  to  hear  what  is  the  news  from  the 
States-General !     Ah !  the  little  wretches !  " 
102 


chap,  v  VOTARESS   AND   VICTIM  103 

For  one  or  two  bigger  boys  had  come  out  of  their 
rickety  doors  and  were  shouting  "A  bas  les  aristocrates." 
The  coachmen  struck  at  them  with  his  whip,  but  they 
skipped  out  of  reach,  laughed  and  yelled  the  louder. 

These,  however,  were  soon  left  behind,  and  the 
familiar  outlines  of  houses  and  walls  and  trees  made 
Caroline  feel  as  if  she  were  going  to  school  again,  as 
she  caught  glimpses  of  the  Seine  from  time  to  time, 
and  remembered  how  she  had  longed  to  follow  it 
down  to  her  own  dear  sea  and  liberty.  Arriving  in 
due  time,  after  rolling  into  the  outer  court,  the  two 
ladies  were  ushered  up  a  stair  into  a  side  building 
where  Caroline  had  never  been  before,  and  which  was 
appropriated  to  ladies  in  retreat,  or  boarding  in  the 
convent  after  the  not  infrequent  custom  alike  of  the 
devout,  of  widows  under  temporary  retirement,  and 
of  persons  wishing  for  a  respectable  shelter. 

Madame  de  Henisson  was  at  present  the  only  occu- 
pant of  a  fairly  spacious  but  bare  apartment,  hold- 
ing no  more  than  the  absolutely  needful  furniture 
of  tables  and  chairs  and  a  shelf  with  a  very  few 
books  of  devotion.  Her  writing-desk  and  embroidery 
frame  were  on  the  table,  and  there  were  prints  from 
the  lives  of  the  saints  on  the  walls,  and  there  was  a 
door  half  open  in  the  alcove,  showing  a  little  oratory 
with  a  crucifix  and  holy-water  stoup.  In  the  alcove 
was  the  bed  and  a  few  toilette  necessaries,  and  there 
were  three  windows,  one  looking  into  the  cloister,  the 
others  into  the  walled  garden,  the  river  beyond,  the 
place  where  Caroline  remembered  both  games  with  her 
companions  and  solitary  pinings.  It  was  deserted  just 
now,  and  nuns  and  lay  sisters  were  rushing  about  the 
cloister  in  the  last  agony  of  preparation  for  the  cere- 
mony. 


104  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

Madame  de  Henisson  embraced  her  sister  and  cousin, 
and  the  little  Agathe  was  in  her  mother's  arms  in  a 
moment.  She  was  a  dark  bright-eyed  child,  arrayed 
in  the  old  costume  of  "les  rouges,"  but  it  was  a  shock 
to  hear  that  there  were  only  two  other  pensionnaires, 
both  orphans.  "Home  education  was  the  fashion  — 
with  what  results  you  see !  "  said  Melanie,  waving  her 
hands  towards  the  cloister,  when  Agathe  eagerly  nar- 
rated the  gossip  of  the  schoolroom,  how  "  cette  Monfi- 
chet  had  been  detected  trying  to  write  letters,  and 
how  she  had  had  des  convulsions,  and  how  she  had  set 
her  lips  like  that!  "  said  Agathe,  screwing  up  her  rosy 
lips,  "and  vowed  that  she  would  never  be  really  a 
nun,  for  no  one  could  make  her  break  her  previous 
vow ! " 

"  Oh !  hush,  Agathe.  It  was  frightful.  Little  girls 
should  not  talk  of  such  things, "  cried  her  aunt.  "  Tell 
us  of  Madeleine  de  Torcy." 

"  Ah !  exactly,  she  is  a  saint !  She  learns  to  make 
her  vows.  She  prays  before  the  shrine  till  the  thread 
of  her  chaplet  is  quite  worn  through,"  said  Agathe, 
but  as  if  she  thought  the  saint  the  least  interesting  of 
the  two.  "  She  wants  her  name  in  religion  to  be  her 
own,  but  the  Mother  insists  that  she  should  be  called 
de  Ste.  Franchise  de  Rome  —  but  Felicite  will  not 
choose  a  name.  She  declares  that  she  will  never 
answer  to  any  name  but  her  own,  for  she  hopes  that 
felicity  may  be  hers  some  time  or  other,  and  Soeur  St. 
Hilaire  says " 

"  Agathe,  mon  enfant,  how  do  you  pick  up  all  these 
stories?     We  never  did,  did  we,  cousin?" 

"Ah!  where  there  are  so  few,  discipline  is  relaxed," 
said  Madame  de  Henisson,  "  but  that  is  the  lesson  bell, 
it  is  time  that  we  took  our  places." 


chap,  v  VOTARESS   AND   VICTIM  105 

"  Yes,  or  we  shall  find  all  absorbed  by  the  de  Torcys 
and  de  Monfichets,"  said  MeTanie,  springing  up. 
"Embrace  me,  my  child,  and  run  to  your  compan- 
ions." Agatlie  disappeared,  and  Ce'cile  ushered  her 
sister  and  cousin  to  the  chapel,  where  straw-bottomed 
chairs  were  placed  in  the  narrow  ante-chapel  behind 
the  grille  —  a  screen  of  carved  open  work  in  wood, 
representing  vines  with  grapes  and  tendrils,  through 
whose  interstices  the  spectators  were  to  look.  One 
side  was  appropriated  to  the  pensionnaires,  but  as 
they  were  so  few,  there  was  the  more  room  for  visit- 
ors, though  the  Monfichet  and  Torcy  families  nearly 
engrossed  the  space  on  the  other  side.  Caroline  found 
herself  seated  in  her  old  place,  with  the  same  cork- 
screw tendril  she  knew  so  well  in  front  of  her,  but  its 
last  coils  were  gone,  so  that  she  had  a  much  improved 
view  into  the  choir.  She  observed  that  this  was  not 
the  only  broken  bit  of  the  woodwork,  and  that  the 
touches  of  gilding  on  the  grapes  were  peeling  off  — 
indeed,  in  spite  of  all  being  decked  for  a  gala  day, 
there  was  a  general  look  of  disrepair,  and  Ce'cile  told 
her  that  the  bad  harvests  had  made  the  revenues  very 
scanty,  and  the  nuns  had  almost  starved  themselves 
in  their  endeavours  to  supply  the  crowds  of  hungry 
beings  who  pressed  to  their  gates  in  last  winter's  ter- 
rible famine,  and  the  present  season  did  not  promise 
great  improvement.  No  one  thought  of  silence  in 
church,  till  a  table  was  placed  outside  the  choir  with 
the  robes  of  a  professed  nun  on  it  —  a  white  hood, 
black  scapular,  a  girdle  and  a  veil,  together  with  a 
vessel  of  holy  water,  and  the  aspersion.  Then  in 
filed  the  nuns,  fewer  in  number  than  Caroline  remem- 
bered them,  for  their  numbers  had  scarcely  been  re- 
cruited since  her  days,  each  bearing  a  lighted  candle. 


106  THE    RELEASE  part  ii 

Then,  with  attendant  priests,  came  the  Bishop  of 
Charrnilly,  a  dark-browed  man,  whom,  plainly,  it 
would  have  been  very  hard  to  resist.  Mass  was 
said  as  far  as  the  Gospel,  and  then  the  Bishop  seated 
himself  in  the  large  chair  made  ready  for  him,  the 
Prioress  likewise  sitting.  The  two  closely  veiled  nov- 
ices in  white  were  led  forward  by  the  mistress  of  the 
novices.  They  knelt  before  the  Bishop  in  his  robes 
and  mitre.  He  demanded  what  they  asked,  and  one 
voice  was  quite  audible.  Caroline  looked  anxiously, 
and  believed  that  the  lips  of  the  other  maiden  moved. 
They  went  back  to  their  places,  and  all  sat  still  while 
a  sermon  was  preached  from  a  tribune  at  the  side,  after 
which  the  pure  sweet  voices  of  the  choir  of  nuns  were 
raised  in  the  "Veni  Creator,"  all  kneeling  in  their 
stalls.  It  was  beautiful  and  solemn,  except  for  the 
knowledge  that  one  of  the  two  was  a  sacrifice,  not  to 
heaven  but  to  the  world,  and  that  in  her  case  the 
hymn  was  a  mockery,  as  were  the  versicles  and  re- 
sponses that  followed. 

And  next  came  the  vows,  when  the  two  maidens 
were  led  forward,  and  the  profession  of  perpetual 
seclusion  and  obedience  to  the  Mother  of  the  Order 
was  rehearsed  aloud  outside  the  grille.  The  voice  of 
Madeleine  was  clear  and  distinct;  the  other  voice 
trembled  —  nay,  the  Bishop  paused  as  though  to  force 
it  to  be  more  precisely  uttered;  but  there  was  more 
and  more  faltering.  It  was  almost,  as  it  seemed  to 
Caroline,  a  protest  instead  of  a  vow;  but  it  was  allowed 
to  pass,  and  the  novices  then  were  led  to  the  table  where 
they  were  to  sign  their  profession.  It  was  then  that 
Caroline  could  first  really  see  them.  One  face,  in  its 
deep  solemnity  and  joyfulness,  was  good  to  see;  it  so 
entirely  expressed  dedication  and  hope.      The  other 


chap,  v  VOTARESS   AND   VICTIM  107 

would  have  been  as  white  as  the  veil,  if  the  complex- 
ion had  not  been  so  brunette  that  the  skin,  though 
deadly  pale,  was  sallow.  The  same  dark  contracted 
eyebrows  seen  in  the  father  and  uncle  were  there,  and 
the  lips  had  the  same  set  look;  but  the  pea  was  put 
into  the  hand,  and  a  scrawl  was  made  with  shaking 
ringers.  Therewith  the  dedicated  maidens  were  to  die 
to  the  world,  and  accordingly  each  was  laid  clown 
under  a  large  black  velvet  pall,  with  six  large  wax 
candles  arranged  around  it,  as  at  a  funeral,  while  the 
priests  and  nuns  intoned  the  Litany  of  the  Saints. 
The  sobs  of  the  de  Torcys  were  violent,  even  Madame 
de  Monfichet  shed  tears,  and  the  weeping  of  the  young 
Duchess  became  hysterical,  so  that  the  "  De  Profun- 
clis  "  could  hardly  be  heard. 

When  this  was  over,  the  Bishop  said  in  Latin, 
"  Arise,  thou  that  sleepest,  from  the  dead,"  and  the 
palls  were  lifted,  Madeleine  rising  up  with  a  look  of 
rapturous  joy  ;  but  there  Avas  a  shriek  from  the  nuns, 
for  Felicite  lay  perfectly  white  and  motionless. 
There  was  a  case  on  record  when  a  votaress  had 
actually  been  found  to  have  expired  under  the  pall, 
and  the  cry  "  Elle  est  morte !  "  could  not  be  suppressed. 
Her  mother  shrieked,  "  Oh  !  I  have  killed  her  !  You 
have  killed  her  !  My  child  !  my  child !  "  And  the 
Duchess  de  Drelincourt  fell  back  in  such  convulsive 
agony  that  she  had  to  be  removed  between  her  father 
and  husband,  hardly  hearing  the  verdict  of  the  crowd- 
ing sisters,  "  Elle  s'est  trouvee  mat."  Caroline  caught 
the  sad  murmur,  "  Ah !  it  is  not  death !  "  while  the 
long  heavy  eyelashes  were  lifted  for  a  moment,  then 
sank  again. 

"Remove  her,  lest  she  cause  another  scandal," 
hastily   ordered  the   Bishop,    and   poor  Felicite   was 


108  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

carried  off  between  two  lay  sisters.  Caroline  would 
have  given  worlds  to  rush  after  her  and  rescue  her, 
but  was  glad  to  see  that  kind-hearted  Soeur  Maria  de 
L'Annonciation,  whom  gossip  declared  to  have  had  a 
love-story  of  her  own,  had  followed  in  her  wake. 

With  a  countenance  almost  recalling  the  pictured 
face  of  St.  Catherine,  Madeleine,  or  rather  Soeur 
Franchise  de  Rome,  was  being  clothed  one  by  one 
in  the  mystic  garments  of  a  professed  sister,  even 
to  the  black  veil.  Some  one  came  and  whispered  to 
the  Bishop  that  his  niece  was  sufficiently  revived  to 
go  through  this  portion  of  the  ceremony,  but  he  re- 
plied, with  a  glance  towards  the  spectators,  "  No,  no  ; 
it  would  only  create  a  fresh  scandal.  In  these  days  it 
is  undesirable.  All  has  been  done  that  is  really  es- 
sential." 

Of  course  he  meant  the  irrevocable  vow,  which  cut 
the  sister  off  from  life  and  the  world.  The  sisters  and 
Madeleine  were  solemnly  exchanging  the  kiss  of  peace, 
which  was  absolute  joy  and  peace  to  the  new  sister, 
whose  features  beamed  with  a  sort  of  intoxication  of 
bliss.  Now  all  was  fulfilled  !  The  desire  of  her  heart 
from  her  cradle  had  been  the  dedication  of  herself, 
which  was  now  accomplished.  She  could  feel  herself 
the  spouse  of  Christ,  a  mystic  resemblance  of  the 
Holy  Church,  His  Bride,  and  it  was  to  her  a  foretaste 
of  the  fulness  of  the  life  everlasting. 

Alas  !  neither  she  nor  Felicite  de  Monfichet  guessed 
how  much  was  to  come  before  that  final  severance  of 
soul  and  body,  which  one  had  thought  to  forestall,  and 
the  other  hoped  was  actually  accomplished. 

Afterwards,  in  the  parlour,  there  Avas  a  refection  of 
the  delicate  sweetmeats  and  dainty  confections  of  the 
nuns,  presided  over  by  the  Prioress  and  her  chaplain 


chap,  v  VOTARESS   AND   VICTIM  109 

as  hosts,  where  the  Bishop  was  as  gracious  and  lively 
as  his  saturnine  nature  permitted.  Mesdames  de 
Monfichet  and  Drelincourt  seemed  to  have  quite  re- 
covered their  spirits,  and  the  de  Torcys  were  uni- 
versally complimented  on  the  angelic  demeanour  of 
their  daughter.  Still  the  conversation  was  not  much 
unlike  that  of  any  salon,  and  Caroline  wondered  what 
her  mother-in-law  would  think  of  her  Sunday. 

She  asked  Cecile  afterwards  how  the  precautions^ 
against  admitting  a  sister  without  a  vocation  had  been 
overcome. 

Cecile  shrugged  her  shoulders.  "  Oh  !  Monseigneur 
de  Charmilly  undertook  to  examine  her  on  that  head !  " 

"Moreover,"  added  Melanie,  "Madame  la  Prieure 
could  not  afford  to  dispense  with  her  dot." 

"  Ah ! "  sighed  Caroline,  "  I  have  seen  how  what  is 
most  holy  can  be  most  perverted." 

"  Chut ! "  exclaimed  Cecile,  "  we  must  not  have  your 
Protestant  talk  in  these  walls.  You  surely  know 
better  who  grew  up  here." 

"  What  I  know  is  what  made  our  ancestors  Protes- 
tants," responded  Caroline. 

"  Yet  what  could  be  more  holy  and  devout  than  our 
sweet  Madeleine  ?  " 

"  All  the  worse  that  the  semblance  of  such  devotion 
should  be  used  as  the  means  of  coercion ! " 

And  all  unconvinced  Caroline  rolled  away  in  the 
great  coach. 


CHAPTER   VI 


THE    BASTILLE 


And  such  a  yell  was  there, 

As  if  men  fought  upon  the  earth, 

And  fiends  in  upper  air. 

Scott  —  Marmion. 

Caroline  was  eager  to  fulfil  her  promise  of  going  to 
tell  Madame  Normand  of  the  ceremony  which  had  to 
her  been  so  sad,  but  there  were  difficulties  in  the  way. 
Melanie  claimed  her  for  various  engagements,  chiefly 
to  old  convent  friends ;  though  it  was  wonderful  to  her 
how  these  were  fulfilled,  in  so  restless  and  even  peril- 
ous a  condition  were  the  streets.  Sometimes  all  was 
quiet,  and  looked  exactly  as  Paris  had  done  eight  years 
ago;  at  others,  stalls  were  taken  in,  sinister-looking 
people  thronged  the  streets,  patriots  with  unpowdered 
hair  stood  on  chairs  haranguing  motley  assemblages, 
and  now  and  then  the  livery  servants  were  pelted  and 
there  was  the  cry  "  A  has  les  aristocrates."  Yet  some- 
how or  other  it  seemed  a  mere  necessity  for  society  to 
meet,  play  at  cards,  and  exchange  compliments  and 
conversation  just  as  if  nothing  perilous  was  in  prog- 
ress. Ladies  would  arrive  declaring  they  were  half 
dead  with  the  horrors  of  their  journey,  and  then,  after 
a  sip  of  eau  sucree,  would  be  eagerly  discussing  the 
110 


chap,  vi  THE   BASTILLE  111 

last  coiffure  c\  la  Grecque,  or  the  exquisite  cashmere 
shawl  they  had  last  seen,  or,  if  more  political  in  mind, 
the  resignation  of  the  incorruptible  Necker,  which 
daunted  the  hopes  of  many ;  while  others  were  only 
anxious  to  put  down  these  dangerous  invasions  of  their 
privileges,  and  return  to  the  good  old  times,  when 
there  were  employments  about  court  for  every  one,  and 
pensions  abounded.  There  was  much  that  was  very 
amusing,  but  Caroline  Aylmer  was  too  English  to  be 
greatly  delighted  with  all  that  she  saw  and  heard. 
She  had  seen  her  aunt's  public  toilette,  but  that  was 
a  decorous  affair,  to  wile  away  the  time  during  the 
lengthy  artistic  operations  of  the  hairdresser ;  but  to 
find  a  lady  sitting  with  her  feet  in  hot  water,  sur- 
rounded by  her  cavaliers,  struck  her  as  remarkable,  to 
say  the  least  of  it;  but  Melanie  only  laughed,  and 
declared  that  the  fashion  of  simple  hairdressing  was 
to  blame,  since  it  left  no  better  opportunities. 

"  You  would  not  do  so,  cousin  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I !  but  I  am  behind  the  times,  quite  devoted  to 
old  grandmother's  etiquette,  they  tell  me." 

"  I  am  very  glad  of  it !  " 

"  What  would  you  say  if  I  took  you  to  see  Madame 
Delacour  sitting  in  her  bath,  as  my  husband  found  her, 
with  M.  Morris  and  half-a-dozen  gentlemen  round 
her  ?  " 

"  Impossible ! " 

"  Ah,  there  was  milk  in  the  water  to  make  it  opaque ! 
Ah!"  as  Caroline  made  a  gesture  of  disgust,  "that 
was  a  little  too  strong.  She  is  not  of  my  society,  but 
the  gentlemen  haunt  her  at  all  hours!  And  your 
Englishman,  Morris,  with  the  one  leg " 

"  Don't  call  him  an  Englishman,  Melanie  !  He  is  an 
American.     If  English,  then  a  traitor." 


112  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

"  All  the  same  in  language  and  manners,  is  it  not  ? 
He  can  open  his  'petits  soins '  to  the  ladies,  administer 
soup  to  them  in  bed,  write  verses  to  them.  He  gives 
himself  the  airs  of  an  elegant!" 

"  Eebel  that  he  is  !  I  saw  him  making  his  court  to 
Madame  de  La  Fayette,  who  received  him  very  coolly." 

"  Oh !  Madame  de  La  Fayette  was  nee  de  Noailles, 
and  the  family  are  all  devout  and  correct  to  the  last 
degree.  But  have  you  seen  him  with  Madame  de 
Stael  —  you  remember  her  —  Germaine  Necker  ?  " 

"  Oh  yes.  She  defended  the  Americans.  But  has 
not  she  gone  with  her  father  ?  " 

"  No,  indeed  !  She  is  Madame  1' Ambassadrice  of 
Sweden,  and  has  a  grand  salon,  where  all  the  political 
and  literary  people  meet,  I  will  take  you  there  some 
evening !  As  for  the  other  days,  I  hear  she  is  to  be 
seen  with  her  women  wiping  her  feet,  and  the  Bishop 
of  Autun  wielding  a  warming-pan  for  her  bed  !  All ! 
your  English  ideas  are  disturbed." 

"We  brought  the  same  from  our  convent," 

"  One  modifies  a  great  deal.  Convent  manners  will 
not  do  in  the  world,  mon  cliou." 

"  You  would  not  allow  such  things." 

"No,  but  I  am  discreet,  though  maybe  you  would 
not  think  so  !  " 

It  was  true.  Melanie's  habits  were  those  of  her 
mother,  and  of  a  large  proportion  of  the  Parisian 
ladies,  entirely  beyond  the  reach  of  censure;  and 
Caroline  felt  safe  to  enjoy  and  describe  all  that  her 
cousin  promoted. 

To  enjoy,  for  there  was  a  wonderful  amount  of  en- 
joyment in  lighter,  surface  ways,  and  likewise  in  the 
hopeful  state  of  people's  minds,  as  they  looked  forward 
to  a  great  renovation  of  the  country,  and  a  loosening 


chap,  vi  THE    BASTILLE  113 

of  these  bonds  of  oppression  which  had  certainly  grown 
intolerable. 

There  were  street  cries  and  street  mobs,  but  these 
were  almost  matters  of  course,  and  the  ladies  visited 
in  spite  of  them.  Madame  Norm  and  made  a  call  on 
Mrs.  Aylmer  one  day  when  she  was  out ;  and  Caroline, 
knowing  how  anxious  she  must  be  to  hear  of  poor 
Felicite's  profession,  and  of  Cecile's  message  that  the 
poor  girl  had  been  very  ill  but  was  recovering,  in  spite 
of  herself,  decided  on  borrowing  the  sedan-chair,  and 
making  a  second  visit. 

The  streets  were  remarkably,  nay,  ominously  quiet 
as  she  was  carried  through  them ;  and  she  found  Ma- 
dame Normand  alone,  but  in  a  vehement  state  of  excite- 
ment, scarcely  able  even  to  think  of  Felicite. 

"  The  troops  are  coming  to  Versailles ! "  she  ex- 
claimed, "the  people  are  rising.  Camille  Desmoulins 
has  declared  that  there  is  preparing  a  St.  Bartholomew 
of  patriots." 

"  You  don't  believe  that,  my  dear  lady  ?  " 

"  How  •  do  I  know  ?  Royalty  is  capable  of  any 
atrocity." 

"  If  you  could  only  see  the  bright,  tender  Queen,  — 
the  good-natured  King " 

"  Pardon  me  !  You  are  deceived.  Frivolity  makes 
the  taste  for  blood  !     Hark  !  " 

The  street  resounded  with  shouts  of  "  arms  and 
bread,"  and  an  endless  stream  of  dark,  fierce-faced  men, 
with  green  branches  in  their  hats,  and  wild  gesticulat- 
ing women  in  white  caps,  some  with  streaming  hair, 
came  trampling  past,  carrying  with  them  in  the  current 
men  of  a  better  class,  but  with  the  same  green  badge, 
all  bawling  at  the  top  of  their  lungs.  In  the  midst 
were  carried  —  what  Madame  Normand  greeted  with 


114  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

a  shriek  —  two  heads  veiled  in  crape  —  alas  !  the  pre- 
cursors of  flesh-and-blood  heads,  for  these  were  the 
busts  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans  and  Necker,  as  her  hus- 
band, rushing  upstairs  the  next  moment,  told  her.  He 
was  out  of  breath,  dusty,  dishevelled,  and  his  hat  wore 
the  green  badge. 

He  bowed  with  instinctive  courtesy  to  the  guest  as 
he  said,  "  I  have  sent  in  your  chair  into  the  back  court. 
You  cannot  go  back  in  it.  I  wonder  you  came  here 
safely,  while,"  —  then  recovering  his  politeness,  "I  re- 
joice that  we  have  the  honour  of  seeing  madame  here." 

"  Is  there  danger  ?  "  asked  both  ladies  together. 

"  None,  except  in  the  streets.  The  people  are  plun- 
dering the  bakers'  shops  on  their  way  to  demand  arms 
at  the  Hotel  de  Ville." 

"They  do  look  half-starved.  Ah!  see  the  woman 
with  the  child  in  her  arms.  She  is  a  living  skeleton 
of  fury,"  cried  Madame  ISTormand. 

"  And  oh !  the  man  with  a  red  handkerchief  and 
projecting  teeth.  He  looks  wolfish,"  exclaimed  Caro- 
line.    "  What  are  they  yelling  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  change.  I  must  go  out  and  see,"  began  M. 
Normand. 

His  wife,  however,  held  him  fast,  and  Caroline 
joined  her  entreaties,  and  while  he  was  trying  to  tear 
himself  from  them,  a  fellow-provincial  deputy  tum- 
bled, rather  than  entered,  into  the  room,  hatless,  his 
coat  torn,  and  altogether  knocked  about. 

"Ah!  it  is  terrible,"  he  cried.  "Your  Parisian 
mobs  are  atrocious !  This  is  the  way  I  have  been 
treated  for  want  of  Desmoulins'  precious  green-leaf 
badge." 

"What  are  they  crying?"  exclaimed  all,  too  eager 
to  give  him  commiseration. 


chap,  vi  THE   BASTILLE  115 

"  To  the  Bastille  !  "  replied  the  deputy.  "  There  is 
a  report  that  the  guns  there  are  levelled  upon  the 
town.  I  joined  the  electors  at  the  Hotel  de  Ville  in 
assuring  the  mob  that  there  was  no  such  intention, 
but  a  fever  has  seized  them  ;  they  will  hear  nothing ; 
and  see  how  they  have  treated  me." 

"  Hark !  What  was  that  ?  Was  it  thunder  ?  "  said 
Madame  Normand. 

"Ah,  no  !  "  said  Caroline.  "  It  was  a  cannon  shot. 
I  know  the  sound.  Oh !  the  howls  —  they  are  far 
more  terrible  !  " 

"  De  Launay  must  be  hard  pressed,"  exclaimed  the 
deputy. 

"  I  must  go  and  see,"  declared  M.  Normand,  seizing 
his  hat. 

"No !  no  !  I  entreat  you,"  burst  out  his  wife,  throw- 
ing her  arms  round  him.  "  I  shall  die  if  you  go ! 
What  could  you  do  ?  Hark  to  the  horrible  sounds. 
It  is  like  the  sea  in  a  tempest." 

"  Worse,"  said  Caroline,  awe-stricken. 

"  My  dear,  let  me  go.  Eemember,  the  mob  would  not 
hurt  me.    I  am  on  their  side,  no  defender  of  tyranny." 

"  No  one  is  safe  !  See  what  they  have  done  to 
Monsieur  Gracey." 

Attention  being  turned  to  M.  Gracey,  his  host  led 
him  off  to  repair  the  damages  he  had  suffered,  and 
there  was  a  sort  of  lull,  though  presently  the  outcries 
rose  louder  and  louder,  but  still,  as  Mrs.  Aylmer  bade 
her  companion  remark,  without  the  sound  of  musketry, 
whence  they  argued  that  there  could  be  no  fighting ; 
yet  to  her  ears  the  human  roars  of  rage  and  exultation, 
all  indistinct  in  themselves,  yet  forming  one  terrible 
volume  of  wild  frantic  yells,  were  almost  more  fright- 
ful than  the  more  regulated  volley. 


116  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

The  gentlemen  could  no  longer  be  withheld,  though 
they  promised  not  to  run  into  any  danger,  and  advised 
Mrs.  Aylmer  to  wait  till  all  was  quieted  down,  as 
indeed  she  was  obliged  to  do,  for  her  chairmen,  hav- 
ing hid  the  emblazoned  chair  as  best  they  might,  had 
disguised  their  liveries,  and  mingled  with  the  mob. 

She  and  Madame  Normand  waited  together,  the  lat- 
ter divided  between  fits  of  anxiety  for  her  husband, 
and  of  exultation  for  the  storming  of  the  stronghold 
of  oppression. 

"  I  can't  understand,"  said  Caroline.  "  The  Bastille 
is  like  our  Tower  of  London,  is  it  not  ?  Everybody 
would  grieve  if  that  were  stormed." 

"That  is  your  English  constitution.  It  is  not  an 
engine  of  oppression." 

"I  don't  know.  Henry  VIII.  cut  off  his  wives' 
heads  there,  and  I  have  seen  the  spikes  where  the 
Jacobite  nobles'  heads  used  to  hang." 

"  You  have  seen  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  husband  took  me.  Nobody  would  go  to 
London  without  going  to  see  the  Tower  and  the  Lions." 

"Your  constitution,"  again  said  Madame  Normand. 
"  You  are  free." 

As  the  horrible  cries  arose  again  she  had  a  fresh  fit 
of  terror  for  her  husband;  but  such  anxieties  came 
again  and  again,  for  they  had  a  long  time,  half  the 
day  in  fact,  to  wait  before  intelligence  came  to  them. 
All  was  still  for  a  time,  the  neighbourhood  quite 
deserted,  and  they  found  themselves  very  hungry. 
Madame  Normand  looked  out  in  search  of  the  con- 
cierge, who  might  send  a  boy  out  to  a  shop,  but  the 
concierge  had  shut  up  his  box  and  was  gone,  and  there 
was  nothing  for  it  but  to  wait. 

By  and  by  their   patience,  or  impatience,  was  re- 


chap,  vi  THE   BASTILLE  117 

warded,  for  in  came  the  two  deputies,  who  had  looked 
on  at  a  safe  distance,  but  were  greatly  shocked  at  what 
had  passed  before  their  eyes.  Not  for  the  sake  of  the 
Bastille  itself,  though  they  confessed  that  its  days  of 
being  a  grim  fastness  of  tyranny  had  ended  long  ago. 
Only  two  prisoners  had  been  found  within  the  cells, 
one  a  restless,  impecunious  Englishman,  and  one  a 
poor,  worn-out  old  wretch,  who  was  frightened  out  of 
the  few  senses  remaining  to  him  by  the  wild  plaudits 
of  the  mob,  and  onty  begged  to  be  taken  back  to  the 
cell,  which  had  been  his  home  and  refuge  for  half 
a  lifetime. 

But  De  Launay  had  been  induced  by  two  officers  of 
the  National  Guard  to  surrender  to  the  mob,  who  had 
poured  in  in  fury,  and  in  spite  of  the  personal  efforts 
of  the  officers,  had  murdered  and  trampled  on  him, 
and  now  were  parading  his  bleeding  head  through  the 
town,  with  the  two  former  captives  dragged  unwill- 
ingly to  swell  the  triumph  in  the  rear. 

M.  Gracey,  who  knew  something  of  the  De  Launay 
family,  was  overcome  at  such  treatment  of  a  good  and 
honourable  man,  though  he  durst  not  manifest  his 
feeling  in  the  streets ;  but  he  threw  himself  into  a 
chair,  hid  his  face  on  the  table,  and  wept  and  sobbed. 

"  It  is  well  there  are  none  to  betray  you,  my  friend," 
said  M.  Normand. 

"  Weep  for  the  instrument  of  foul  tyranny  ?  "  cried 
Madame  Normand;  "as  well  weep  for  the  stones  they 
hurl  from  the  battlements." 

"The  stones  are  not  living  men  with  a  sense  of 
duty,"  returned  M.  Normand.  "  Pull  down  the  dun- 
geon, that  is  well,  but  to  slay  the  brave  men  who 
defended  it  was  a  crime." 

"  A  crime  !     Ah,  bah !   why  should  they  be  brave 


118  THE    RELEASE  part  ii 

in  the  cause  of  oppression  ?  "  declared  the  lady,  still 
exalted. 

"  Ah !  madame,"  returned  Gracey,  "  I  augur  ill  for 
a  revolt  inaugurated  by  dishonourable  bloodshed." 

"  Bah  !  as  though  victories  were  to  be  won  with  rose- 
water  !  "  declaimed  madame.  "  Did  Junius  Brutus  at 
Collatinus  expel  the  Tarquins  without  a  drop  of  blood  ?  " 

Her  tirade  was  interrupted  by  the  cries  that  be- 
tokened the  approach  of  the  mob,  and  she  sprang  out 
to  the  balcony,  followed  by  her  husband  and  Caroline. 
Gracey,  who  had  had  enough  of  such  sights,  remained 
within  the  room. 

The  Marseillaise  had  not  yet  been  brought  to  Paris, 
but  the  people  were  never  at  a  loss  for  songs  and 
choruses  reflecting  the  feeling  of  the  day,  and  one  of 
these  fell  on  the  ear,  as,  after  the  inevitable  advanced 
guard  of  children  and  dogs,  came  the  people,  walking 
in  better  order  than  on  their  previous  way,  waving 
branches  of  trees,  with  boughs  in  their  hats  and  sing- 
ing. Some  carried  the  pikes  and  weapons  captured  in 
the  Bastille  and  Hotel  de  Ville;  some  had  loaves  of 
bread  at  the  end  of  their  sticks,  and  there  was  the 
usual  proportion  of  fishwomen  mingled  with  the  grim 
dwellers  in  the  slums,  and  the  slender,  youthful  en- 
thusiasts who  careered  along,  transported  with  their 
achievements.  In  the  midst  were  the  prisoners,  one, 
the  Englishman,  gesticulating  as  if  infected  with 
French  frenzy ;  the  other  poor  fellow  dragged  along 
between  two  big  po?ssa?T?es,  who  held  him  up,  half- 
dead  and  wholly  unconscious  of  the  situation. 

Then,  accentuated  by  the  cocked  hat,  thrust  upon 
the  grizzled  hair,  was  borne  the  head  of  poor  De 
Launay,  those  of  his  major  and  lieutenant,  and  of 
the  Prevot  des  Marchands. 


chap,  vi  THE   BASTILLE  119 

Caroline  recoiled  from  the  ghastly  spectacle,  and 
turned  back  into  the  room.  Perhaps  Normand  him- 
self -would  fain  have  done  so,  but  he  knew  that  the 
least  manifestation  of  disgust  was  dangerous,  so  he 
remained ;  and  his  wife  was  in  a  state  of  exaltation  far 
above  horror,  and  added  her  voice  to  the  cries  of  "  Vive 
la  nation!  A  has  la  tyrannie."  She  came  in,  trem- 
bling and  shedding  tears  of  joy.  She  had  seen  the 
first-fruits  of  the  reaction  against  the  oppressions 
under  which  France  had  groaned  for  centuries,  and 
she  was  transported  with  joy.  Indeed  the  feeling 
was  one  that  all  the  moderate,  indeed  half  Europe, 
shared,  excepting  those  wrho  pitied  the  defenders. 
The  Bastille  was  to  them  the  emblem  of  despotism ; 
multitudes  had  there  been  unjustly  immured,  and  it 
was  well  that  it  should  be  overthrown. 

The  streets  were  quiet  enough  after  the  triumphal 
procession  had  passed  by,  and  Caroline  was  anxious 
to  get  home,  and  to  know  how  her  cousins  had  fared. 
The  July  days  were  long,  and  it  was  still  light,  but 
her  chairmen  had  disappeared,  and  the  sedan  remained 
in  a  dark  outhouse.  The  streets  were  thought  impass- 
able for  ladies,  and  she  was  scarcely  shod  for  even 
her  English  feet  to  attempt  a  passage ;  but  the  con- 
cierge had  returned,  and  a  fiacre  was  with  some  delay 
procured,  in  which  she  was  taken  home.  M.  Norm  and 
insisted  on  escorting  her.  She  found  Melanie  much 
terrified  by  the  procession,  and  the  reports  which  had 
reached  her,  and  Monsieur  de  jSTidemerle  about  to  send 
the  chairmen  to  fetch  her  home.  Only  on  inquiry 
they  were  not  to  be  found.  It  was  thought  that  they 
had  been  put  to  shame  by  their  friends  for  having 
acted  as  beasts  of  burthen  to  a  vilaine  aristocrate. 


CHAPTER  VII 


TO    THE    WEST 


With  thee,  my  bark,  I'll  quickly  go 
Athwart  the  foaming  brine, 
Nor  care  what  land  thou  bring' st  me  to 
So  not  again  to  mine. 

Byron. 

After  the  overthrow  of  the  Bastille,  society  became 
much  the  same  as  before.  There  were  important  dis- 
cussions, now  and  then  alarms  of  mobs,  cries  of  "  A  la 
lanterne"  when  an  unpopular  aristocrat  was  met  in 
the  streets ;  sometimes  even  a  murder,  and  reports 
came  in  of  risings  of  peasants  against  the  seigneurs, 
and  attacks  on  their  chateaux;  but  the  streets  were 
in  general  fairly  quiet,  and  visits,  theatricals,  and  talk, 
political  and  frivolous,  filled  the  salons  as  usual.  Eat- 
ing, drinking,  talking,  marrying  and  giving  in  mar- 
riage, engrossed  the  world,  as  in  the  days  before  the 
Flood  came  and  took  them  all  away. 

Captain  Aylmer's  mother  had  some  connection  with 
the  family  of  Lady  Gower,  the  English  ambassadress. 
She  had  left  her  letters  of  introd action,  and,  when 
possible,  was  a  visitor  at  the  Embassy,  attending  the 
English  service  whenever  she  could,  in  duteous  obedi- 
ence to  her  husband  and  mother-in-law,  whose  orders 
she  felt  she  had  almost  transgressed  by  witnessing  the 

120 


chap,  vii  TO  THE    WEST  121 

profession  of  the  two  nuns :  but  that  was  a  spectacle. 
She  was  always  made  welcome  at  Lady  Gower's  salon, 
and  was  often  much  amused  at  the  sentimental  little 
semi-flirtation  that  M.  Gouverneur  Morris  carried  on 
with  the  great  lady,  and  which  was  plainly  diplomatic 
management  and  amusement  on  her  part  if  it  was 
vanity  upon  his.  Through  the  Embassy  was  con- 
ducted her  correspondence  with  England  and  with  her 
husband,  and  as  the  novelty  of  this  passed,  she  began 
more  and  more  to  live  on  the  expectation  of  these, 
though  even  Mrs.  Aylmer's  were  few  and  far  between. 
Her  husband's  were  uncertain,  but  they  were  journals 
and  very  delightful. 

Letters  came  also  from  the  West  Indies,  which  de- 
cided Monsieur  and  Madame  de  Nidemerle  on  going 
out  to  Ste.  Marie  Galante  to  obtain  possession  of  their 
property,  and  adapt  it  to  the  new  circumstances  that 
might  befall  them.  Melanie  had  a  picture  of  island 
life  in  her  mind,  compounded  of  her  mother's  child- 
hood, of  Coralie's  talk,  and  of  Paul  and  Virginie,  and 
she  looked  forward  to  palm-trees,  humming-birds, 
cocoa-nuts,  and  obsequious  slaves,  to  whom  she  should 
proclaim  freedom.  She  wanted  to  take  out,  not  only 
her  children,  but  her  sister  and  cousin.  Cecile,  how- 
ever, would  not  hear  of  leaving  her  convent,  and  Caro- 
line could  not  go  so  far  from  her  children.  She  would 
have  delighted  in  the  voyage,  and  she  had  real,  vivid 
recollections  of  more  than  one  island ;  but  there  was  a 
stronger  force  connected  with  the  downs  of  Downford, 
and  she  resolved  on  remaining  where  she  could  hear 
of  her  little  ones,  and  get  letters  from  her  husband 
more  easily  than  in  a  French  island. 

For  all  agreed  in  declaring  that  she  must  not  go 
home  as  yet.     If  she  could  not  go  out  to  Guadaloupe 


122  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

she  must  remain  at  Paris,  within  reach  of  communi- 
cation and  of  notaries,  and  pursue  her  claims,  if  she 
hoped  to  secure  her  share  of  the  property.  To  remain 
in  the  Hotel  de  Nidemerle  without  the  protection  of 
the  master  thereof  did  not  seem  to  her  possible,  and 
she  therefore  decided  on  joining  Madame  de  Henisson 
in  boarding  at  the  convent  of  Ste.  Lucie.  There  she 
would  have  full  liberty,  as  well  as  protection,  and  the 
nuns  had  become  too  poor  to  venture  any  objection  to 
a  Protestant  who  could  pay  them.  Besides,  was  she 
not  almost  a  child  of  the  convent  ?  So  it  was  decided. 
The  two  children  of  the  Nidemerles  were  to  accompany 
them,  under  the  tutorship  of  the  Abbe,  and  the  care  of 
a  bonne,  and  they  also  decided  on  taking  with  them 
their  negro  servant,  offering  Zelie  also  a  passage  with 
them. 

Zelie,  however,  having  once  recovered  her  dear 
Mamselle  Caroline,  was  resolved  never  to  part  with 
her  again.  Her  own  kith  and  kin  had  long  been  for- 
gotten, and  there  was  nothing  in  the  world  that  she 
loved  so  well.  Her  wool  was  grey,  under  her  scar- 
let, gold-edged  turban,  but  she  was  still  an  effective 
femme  de  chambre,  and  Caroline  was  glad  to  retain  the 
familiar  nurse  of  her  childhood. 

Another  precious  possession  was  left  with  her. 
Melanie  called  her  into  her  room  one  evening,  and, 
after  locking  the  doors,  opened  a  doubly  fastened  cab- 
inet. She  took  out  a  casket,  rich  with  ivory  and  gold, 
with  the  Eibaumont  arms  engraven  upon  a  shield  on 
the  lid.  "  There,"  she  said,  unlocking  it,  and  display- 
ing the  bed  of  velvet,  "  do  you  know  them  ?  " 

"  The  pearls  of  Ribaumont.     Oh  !  " 

"Here  is  all  their  history,  on  this  yellow  paper, 
written  out  by  our  great-grandmother,  Madame  Mar- 


chap,  vii  TO   THE    WEST  123 

guerite  de  Bibaumont  Bellaise,  who  had  this  casket 
made." 

"  I  shall  love  to  read  it.  The  story  was  a  yarn  —  I 
mean  une  historiette  —  of  my  dear  father  on  board 
ship.  I  do  not  think  my  uncle  cared  for  it  in  the 
same  way." 

"You  must  read  it.  There  are  two,  if  not  three, 
veritable  romances  in  it.  One  night  we  caused  M.  de 
St.  Pierre  to  read  it  aloud  in  the  salon,  and  I  assure 
you  there  was  no  one  who  was  not  plunged  in 
tears." 

"  After  all,  Melanie,  they  are  not  so  beautiful  as  I 
expected.  I  have  seen  finer  pearls.  That  pendant 
which  my  father  gave  me  in  memory  of  them  has 
larger  pearls,  and  not  so  yellow.  This  one,  too,  is  half 
broken." 

"  Bah !  You  are  not  worthy  to  have  the  charge  of 
them." 

"  ISTo,  no,  Melanie,  I  honour  them  all  the  more.  Of 
course  King  Edward  would  not  wear  his  best  pearls 
on  his  helmet  in  a  night  attack,  and  this  yellow  pearl 
must  have  been  the  one  that  Eustacie  sent  as  a  token 
to  her  husband.  You  see  it  hangs  apart  from  the 
rest." 

"You  know  the  history  better  than  I  do,  my 
dear." 

"  I  think  my  father  knew  it  by  heart.  He  could 
remember  his  great  aunt,  Naomi  Fellowes,  who  had 
been  in  France,  and  had  seen  the  pearls.  Oh,  yes,  I 
honour  and  love  them,  and  delight  in  the  sight  of 
them.  Do  you  mean  to  take  them  with  you,  or  leave 
them  at  the  Chateau  de  Nidemerle,  or  with  your 
banker  ? " 

"  Best  no.     My  husband  thinks  that  no  place  here 


124  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

may  be  safe  from  those  frightful  mobs,  though  Anjou 
is  better  than  most  parts  of  France,  and  bankers  may 
be  robbed  at  any  moment.  So  we  mean  to  take  all 
our  valuables  with  us  to  the  West  Indies  —  plate, 
jewels,  and  all  —  but  this,  an  heirloom  of  the  Ribau- 
monts,  should,  he  thinks,  be  put  out  of  the  way  of 
danger,  and  therefore  that  it  had  better  be  committed 
to  you,  where  it  will  be  safe  in  England,  even  should 
our  vessel  founder.  Ah!  then  we  should  be  all  to- 
gether. None  would  have  the  misery  of  surviving  the 
rest."  Wherewith  Melanie  burst  into  tears,  being 
already  in  a  terrible  fright  about  the  voyage. 

"  Oh !  that  is  folly,  my  dear  Melanie.  Vessels  are 
not  always  foundering.  You  will  have  a  delightful 
voyage,  and  see  the  porpoises,  and  the  flying-fish,  and 
only  be  grieved  to  come  to  the  end  of  it.  If  only  I 
were  going  with  you  !  " 

"  Dear  Caroline,  come  with  us.  Then  I  should  not 
be  nearly  so  much  frightened  if  I  had  you  with  me." 

"  I  wish  I  could,  but  it  is  impossible  without  orders 
from  my  husband ;  nor  could  I  leave  my  children  at 
such  a  distance.  If  I  had  the  little  things  with  me 
it  would  be  a  different  matter,  but  I  feel  day  by  day 
as  if  my  boy  were  drawing  me  home.  I  hear  him  in 
my  sleep  cry  <  Mamma,  mamma ! J  I  shall  not  bring 
myself  to  stay  long  after  you  are  gone." 

"What,  return  contentedly  to  the  little  provincial 
town  and  the  belles-meres.     I  ask  their  pardon,  one  is 

an  aunt ! " 

"  But  my  mother-in-law  is  the  one  I  love,  and  the 
uncle.  Indeed,  though  if  there  were  no  one  else,  my 
son  and  daughter  would  be  enough.  These  politics  of 
Paris,  and  still  worse,  these  gaieties ;  oh !  they  make 
me  sick ! " 


chap,  vii  TO   THE    WEST  125 

"  And  as  for  me,  I  shall  pine  till  I  see  Paris  once 
more." 

Caroline  was  safely  installed  in  the  convent  before 
the  Nidemerles  departed;  for  in  fact  they  almost 
stripped  their  hotel,  carrying  with  them  their  hand- 
somest articles  of  furniture,  tapestries,  and  carpets  — 
a  perfect  ship  load  —  as  well  as  all  their  black  ser- 
vants, evidently  reckoning  on  a  considerable  stay,  for 
perhaps  M.  cle  Nidemerle  understood  the  signs  of  the 
times  better  than  his  wife,  and  doubted  how  it  would 
fare  with  the  nobles,  who  had  already  stripped  them- 
selves of  much  of  their  power  and  privilege. 

Cecile  and  Caroline  drove  out  of  Paris  with  Melanie, 
and  her  cavalcade  of  carriages,  servants,  and  baggage, 
on  the  way  to  Nantes.  Murmurs  and  distrust  of  emi- 
grants had  not  yet  begun,  especially  on  the  Breton 
road,  and  they  went  on  unmolested  as  far  as  the  first 
stage,  where  they  were  supposed  to  dine  at  the  pretty 
old  trellised  inn  of  the  Ermine,  in  a  large  room  with 
a  tiled  floor  and  bow  window.  Supposed  to  dine,  for 
every  one,  even  the  boy,  was  too  much  overcome  to 
eat.  It  would  have  seemed  a  disgraceful  want  of  sen- 
sibility to  be  able  to  swallow,  and  Caroline,  with  her 
English  appetite,  was  quite  ashamed  of  being  hungry, 
and  the  Abbe,  no  relation  to  any  one,  only  swallowed 
soup  surreptitiously.  Then,  in  perfect  convulsions  of 
grief,  Melanie  was  detached  by  her  husband  from  her 
sister's  embrace,  and  lifted  into  the  carriage.  Then 
followed  her  daughter,  crying  piteously,  but  as  much 
from  alarm  at  her  mother's  state  as  from  the  sorrow  of 
separating  from  her  aunt,  and  her  brother  and  father 
were  full  of  passionate  tears  and  embraces.  The  bonne 
and  the  Abbe  followed,  the  grand  old-fashioned  berline 
was  closed,  and  dashed  off  with  its  six  horses ;  white 


12G  THE   EELEASE  part  ii 

handkerchiefs  were  waved  from  the  windows,  the 
lackeys,  white  and  black,  hung  on  behind,  all,  and 
the  ensuing  chaise  with  the  rest  of  the  servants,  dis- 
appeared in  a  cloud  of  dust,  and  Madame  de  Henisson, 
in  a  dead  faint,  remained  to  be  tended  by  her  femme 
de  chambre  and  Mrs.  Aylmer  till  she  could  be  recovered 
sufficiently  to  return  to  Ste.  Lucie. 


CHAPTER   VIII 
beaudesert's  watchword 

"  I  wish  that  I  were  dead,  hut  I'm  not  like  to  die." 
Despair  it  was  come,  and  she  thought  it  was  content ; 
She  thought  it  was  content,  and  yet  her  cheek  grew  pale, 
And  she  drooped  like  a  lily  bent  down  by  the  hail. 

Lady  Anne  Lindsay. 

The  rooms  in  the  convent  of  Ste.  Lucie  were  not  an 
undesirable  residence,  especially  since  the  numbers 
both  of  nuns  and  of  pensionnaires  had  so  much  dimin- 
ished. They  were  bare,  but  neither  English  nor  French 
society  was  lavish,  of  furniture,  and  Mrs.  Aylmer  did 
not  miss  it.  Her  rooms  were  in  a  building  reaching 
along  one  side  of  the  cloistered  quadrangle,  to  which 
the  main  entrance  was  through  the  gateway,  but 
which  had  another  door  leading  to  the  outer  world. 
These  rooms  were  in  fact  over  the  offices  of  the  con- 
vent—  the  stores  of  wood  for  fuel,  and  the  stable 
where  lived  the  donkey,  and  the  two  cows  which 
gave  milk  to  the  inmates,  also  the  old  man  who  took 
care  of  them,  but  who  was  carefully  locked  out  of  the 
garden,  where  the  lay  sisters  did  the  work.  There 
was  a  high  boundary  wall  and  thick  hedge  between 
the  garden  and  the  field  where  the  three  animals  dis- 
ported themselves,  and  which  led  down  to  the  Seiue. 
The  flour,  wood,  and  other  articles  used  in  the  convent 

127 


128  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

were,  as  Caroline  soon  learnt,  brought  by  water  and 
carried  in  by  this  mode  of  access,  which  she  had  never 
been  allowed  to  suspect  in  her  pensionnaire  days.  The 
long  passage  into  which  her  rooms  opened  led  to  two 
narrow  stone  staircases,  one  terminating  in  a  door 
towards  the  highroad,  the  other  opening  into  the  field 
bordered  by  the  river  with  the  little  landing-place; 
and  it  was  indescribable  what  a  sense  of  liberty  this 
gave  her,  though  she  might  not  often  avail  herself  of 
it.  To  know  that  she  need  not  always  walk  in  the 
garden  as  in  old  times,  nor  always  have  a  carriage  up 
through  the  great  gateway,  made  her  feel  that  she  was 
really  no  pensionnaire  but  an  English  sailor's  wife ! 

She  had  two  rooms ;  Cecile  also  had  two,  and  they 
dined  and  supped  together;  but  devotion  occupied 
Cecile  through  many  hours  of  the  day,  as  she  shared 
in  most  of  the  regular  hours  of  the  nuns,  and  had 
besides  vowed  a  neuvaine  for  the  safety  of  her  sister's 
voyage.  Caroline  had  written  a  solemn  pledge  to  her 
very  Protestant  aunt  and  mother-in-law,  and  —  what 
she  regarded  even  more  —  promised  her  husband  to 
abstain  from  the  Koman  Catholic  services,  which  they 
dreaded  the  more  as  she  had  been  habituated  to  them 
in  her  youth.  She  had  thus  a  great  deal  of  solitude 
to  dispose  of,  and  she  sometimes  felt  as  though  it  were 
wicked  of  her  not  to  pray  likewise  to  the  same  amount 
for  her  husband  and  cousins,  and  she  tried,  but  could 
not  fix  her  attention;  moreover,  she  had  been  dili- 
gently taught  to  put  no  faith  in  "vain  repetitions." 
She  had  been  to  the  ambassador's  chapel  on  Sunday 
when  in  Paris,  but  it  was  too  far  off  to  go  at  present 
except  when  she  slept  at  the  Embassy,  where  Lady 
Gower  made  her  kindly  welcome.  Visitors  now  and 
then  came  to  her,  and  she  could  return  their  visits 


chap,  vni      BEAUDESERT'S   WATCHWORD  129 

when  she  liked,  but  she  did  not  often  like,  for  the 
tumults  in  Paris  were  becoming  alarming. 

Her  life  was  very  dull,  chiefly  occupied  by  the  long 
letters  always  in  hand  to  her  husband,  and  by  her  in- 
terest in  poor  Felicite  —  or  rather  Soeur  Philomene. 
The  girl  was  obliged  to  attend  all  the  devotions  of 
the  sisterhood,  but  at  other  times  she  wandered  apart 
in  the  garden,  a  lovely  figure  in  her  black  dress  and 
white  veil  and  scapulary. 

She  had  been  very  ill  after  her  forced  profession, 
and  had  not  long  been  recovered  enough  to  be  out  of 
doors  again,  which,  perhaps,  prevented  her  from  being 
employed  in  any  of  the  many  avocations  of  the  sisters, 
in  curious  contrast  to  Soeur  Franchise  de  Eome,  whom 
Caroline  met  merrily  bearing  a  great  pan  of  milk, 
looking  as  happy  as  the  day  was  long,  or  if  she  were 
walking  in  the  garden  alone,  with  her  beads  in  her 
hands,  there  was  on  her  soft  sweet  face  a  rapt  look 
of  meditation,  as  though  the  rosary  was  not  to  her 
a  mechanical  arrangement  for  soulless  forms,  but  a 
real  implement  for  aiding  devout  aspiration. 

But  poor  Sceur  Philomene  sat  drooping  on  the  gar- 
den seats,  and  once  Caroline  found  her  hanging  over 
a  young  lilac  just  coming  into  blossom;  and  as  it 
seemed  watering  it  with  her  tears,  though  her  veil 
hung  so  much  forward  that  it  was  not  easy  to  be  cer- 
tain. However,  the  impulse  to  comfort  or  at  least 
to  sympathise,  was  so  strong  that  the  warm-hearted 
Englishwoman  could  not  help  going  towards  her  and 
gently  saying,  "  My  poor  child  !  " 

Felicite  sprang  up  in  terror,  and  then,  as  she  per- 
ceived the  large  hat  and  blue  dress,  she  exclaimed, 
"  Ah !  you  are  mondaine,  you  are  Protestant,  madame, 
you  can  pity  me." 

K 


130  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

"  I  pity  you  from  niy  heart,  indeed  I  do,  my  dear. 
I  have  heard  your  story  from  Madame  Normand." 

"  You  will  then  excuse  these  vain,  vain  tears.  I 
know  they  are  wicked;  but  oh!  how  to  check  them 
when  I  saw  and  smelt  that  sweet  lilac.  It  is  only 
two  years  ago  that  he  —  that  Henri  —  was  showing 
me  all  its  beauties,  and  dwelling  on  the  wisdom  shown 
in  the  grace  of  the  blossom.  I  had  a  flower  of  it  in  my 
Livre  cVHeures,  but  they  found  it  and  took  it  away. 
They  said  it  was  sinful  to  cherish  what  reminded  me 
of  a  disobedient,  self-willed  attachment,  and  oh!  if 
they  knew  of  my  weeping  now !  "  And  the  weep- 
ing became,  not  louder,  but  more  overpowering,  all  the 
more  because  the  poor  young  nun  thought  it  absolutely 
wicked. 

"  No,  no,  I  do  not  think  it  wicked,"  said  Caroline. 
" Never  fear!  I  am  sure  it  does  you  good;  I  will 
not  betray  you." 

Presently  the  bell  for  vespers  made  Sceur  Philo- 
mene  start  up  and  hurry  into  the  chapel  in  fear  of 
penance,  drawing  her  veil  over  her  red  eyes,  though 
these  were  too  frequent  a  sight  to  excite  more  than 
a  sigh  of  blame  to  her  for  being  unable  even  yet  to 
accomplish  "  detachment "  from  the  world  or  from  her 
sinful  passion. 

Was  it  sinful?  Nuns,  uncle,  and  confessor  all 
taught  her  that  it  was  so,  having  begun,  they  said,  in 
indiscretion  and  disobedience,  and  being  now  absolutely 
guilty  in  a  professed  nun. 

But  Felicite,  who,  after  that  first  day,  had  learnt  to 
seek  out  Mrs.  Aylmer,  and  confide  in  her,  often  speak- 
ing in  English,  was  torn  to  pieces  between  her  real 
and  her  fictitious  conscience.  She  could  not  think 
there  had  been  indiscretion  in  the  intercourse  which 


chap,  vin      BEAUDESERT'S   WATCHWORD  131 

had  been  overlooked  by  the  governess  and  sanctioned 
by  her  parents. 

"  My  father  used  to  be  delighted  when  I  repeated 
my  scientific  lessons  to  him.  He  was  charmed  when 
I  explained  the  letters  on  botany  of  Jean  Jacques 
Rousseau  which  I  read  with  Monsieur  Beaudesert." 

«Ah!  but " 

"  I  know  what  you  would  say,  but  there  never  was 
a  word  between  us.  I  knew  nothing  till  there  was 
the  great  eclat  and  they  fell  on  my  dear  Miss  Fernley 
and  on  me.  Then  I  knew  how  it  was,  and  that  he 
loved  me,  and  that  I  had  been  loving  him  all  the 
time;  and  Miss  Fernley  said  I  was  right,  and  that 
was  the  way  things  were  done  in  your  happy  Eng- 
land, and  it  would  be  a  crime  and  a  falsehood  to  let 
myself  be  married  to  any  one  else  when  I  loved  no 
one  but  that  one.  And  now  he  is  gone,  they  have 
sent  him  away  to  those  dreadful  swamps  and  marshes 
among  the  crocodiles,  where  every  one  dies  of  fever 
or  gets  killed  by  your  Indians/' 

Caroline  could  reassure  her  as  to  the  perils  of 
Louisiana,  and  much  more  was  gradually  told  as  to 
the  persecution  the  poor  girl  had  undergone  at  her 
home,  till  she  had  accepted  the  residence  in  the  con- 
vent as  a  refuge.  The  last  message  that  Miss  Fern- 
ley conveyed  to  her  had  advised  her  to  submit  to  this 
arrangement,  which  would  give  her  peace  and  pledge 
her  to  nothing.  Henri  Beaudesert  bade  her  be  patient, 
trust  to  him,  and  await  better  times,  when  he  hoped 
to  be  able  to  rise  to  a  level  where  he  might  meet  the 
nobility.  "'Patience,  hope,  and  trust,' those,  he  said, 
were  to  be  our  watchwords,  and  they  are  engraven  for 
ever  on  my  poor  heart,  faithless  as  I  have  been." 

Then  came   the  history  of  the   silent  inducements 


132  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

of  the  sisters,  and  the  active  denunciations  of  Mon- 
seigneur  de  Charmilly,  who  had  half  cajoled,  half 
frightened  her  into  consenting  to  the  novitiate,  when 
the  marriage  with  her  sister  had  been  arranged,  and 
at  the  end  of  the  year  had  returned  on  her  with  heavy 
denunciations,  all  the  stronger  for  having  already 
accepted  the  dedication  from  which  she  wished  to 
retreat,  for  the  sake  of  an  unholy  love  for  one  of  those 
philosophers  who  were  working  the  ruin  of  France, 
godless,  unholy  men.  "What  did  he  know  ?  He  had 
heard  reports  that  the  wretch  had  forgotten  her,  and 
was  linking  himself  in  marriage  with  a  Creole  heretic. 

Felicite  avowed  that  this  had  staggered  her.  She 
was  giving  up  all  hopes  of  marriage,  and  profession 
would  shelter  her  from  further  torment  on  that  sub- 
ject, so  she  had  given  a  sort  of  consent.  Only  after- 
wards came  the  arri&re-pens6e  that  she  ought  to  have 
demanded  evidence,  whether  she  could  have  obtained 
it  or  not ;  and  now  Caroline  was  able,  whether  wisely 
or  not,  to  assure  her  that  Beaudesert  was  far  from 
forgetting  her  !     Alas  !  alas  ! 

"  But,"  cried  the  girl  eagerly,  "  I  never  uttered  the 
vow.  I  protested  first,  but  no  one  heeded  my  protest, 
I  believe  it  was  intercepted,  I  was  utterly  desolate,  no 
one  pitied  me,  I  yielded  and  let  myself  be  led  forward, 
but  I  only  moved  my  lips.  Monseigneur,  my  uncle, 
took  it  for  granted  that  I  spoke.  I  think  he  knew 
that  it  might  be  dangerous  to  press  me  to  extremity, 
and  I  was  so  faint,  I  should  have  been  able  to  scream 
perhaps,  but  hardly  to  speak.  No,  I  have  made  no 
real  vows,  they  were  treated  as  made  when  the  habit 
was  given  to  me ;  I  do  not  feel  myself  bound,  not 
within,  not  in  my  conscience.  '  Patience,  hope,  and 
trust,'  he  said.     Perhaps  the  time  will  come  that  I 


chap,  vin      BEAUDESERT'S    WATCHWORD  133 

can  appeal,"  and  she  clasped  her  hands  with  a  look 
of  fervour. 

"  Appeal  ?  "  said  Caroline,  "  to  whom  ?  " 

"  To  the  Bishops  !  Nay,  to  the  Pope  himself.  The 
Holy  Father  could  never  consent  to  a  reluctant  sacri- 
fice. He  would  not  have  the  lamb  driven  struggling 
to  the  altar.  God  would  have  willing  offerings  like 
Soeur  Franchise,  not  those  whose  hearts  are  else- 
where, and  to  whom  every  observance  is  misery 
because  she  feels  it  wicked  mockery  and  hypoc- 
risy/'' 

"  Cannot  you  pray  that  God  will  deliver  you  from 
this  bondage  and  captivity  ?  " 

"  Eh  !     But  that  would  be  wicked." 

"  Surely  not.  God  will  hear  us  in  any  trouble,  and 
this  is  a  real  one.  Only  ask  Him  to  help  you,  and  He 
will  find  the  way." 

That  was  the  tenor  of  the  conversations  which  Mrs. 
Aylmer  held  almost  by  stealth  with  Felicite,  often 
going  back  to  the  happy  days  in  the  chateau  garden, 
and  the  lessons  on  botany  or  electricity,  or  dwelling 
on  the  details  of  the  struggle,  and  sometimes  on  the 
question  how  far  she  was  bound.  The  poor  girl  was 
conscientious  and  religious  at  heart,  and  the  sense  of 
hypocrisy  in  her  obligatory  devotions  was  an  addi- 
tional misery  to  her.  Caroline's  training  had  been  so 
far  Catholic  that  she  did  not  esteem  them  all,  as  her 
Protestant  friends  at  home  would  have  done,  as  ad- 
ditional sins,  but  she  tried  to  persuade  the  maiden 
that  such  prayers  might  be  mentally  turned  to  her 
own  case. 

"  But  how  ?  how  ?     How  could  I  be  helped  ?  " 

"  God  can  find  out  a  way." 

"  This  is  an  iron  cage —  an  adamant  cage." 


134  THE    RELEASE  part  ii 

"  Oh  !  hush !  hush  !  Nothing  is  impossible  with 
Him." 

"  My  own  word.     The  holy  vows." 

"You  have  said  that  you  never  really  made  them." 

"  Do  not  talk  in  that  way.  It  would  be  impiety  in 
any  one  else." 

"  You  are  not  like  any  one  else." 

"  Oh  !  I  know  it  cannot  be.     It  is  no  use  to  pray." 

"  Don't !  don't ! "  cried  Caroline,  "  prayer  is  sure  to 
bring  blessings  in  some  way.  He  could  make  you 
happy  and  content  here." 

"  I  don't  want  to  be  content.  That  would  be  forget- 
ting Henri  and  all  the  joy  I  could  ever  have  in  my 
life." 

"  Or  again,  God  could  deliver  you  out  of  all  these 
troubles." 

"  Death  !  Oh ! "  as  she  wrung  her  hands,  "  I  have 
asked  for  death  again  and  again,  and  He  will  not  let 
me  die !  Think  !  I  am  not  nineteen,  and  I  shall  go 
on  as  Sister  Philomene  in  this  hateful  black  and  white, 
within  these  weary  walls  for  fifty  —  sixty  years! 
What  do  I  know  ?  Oh,  if  I  had  let  them  kill  me  — 
but  they  told  me  he  was  married !  "  —  with  a  fierce 
gesture. 

"  But  while  you  are  alive,  your  prayers  can  still  do 
him  good." 

"  You !  Protestant  as  you  are,  you  say  that." 

"I  —  of  course  I  do.  My  father  taught  me  that  my 
prayers  would  hover  round  to  guard  our  ship,  and  they 
can  call  the  angels  down  to  guard  your  Henri  in  Amer- 
ica. I  trust  mine  are  helping  to  keep  my  husband  safe, 
and  my  little  ones." 

That  seemed  a  softening  thought,  and  the  discussion 
was  renewed  several   times,  sometimes  in  one  mood, 


chap,  vni       BEAUDESERT'S    WATCHWORD  135 

sometimes  in  another,  either  despairing  or  resigned; 
all  was  poured  out  to  Caroline,  as  the  only  person 
who  could  listen  and  sympathise  without  blaming. 
For  even  la  Mere  de  l'Annonciation,  though  she  pitied 
with  all  her  heart,  could  not  but  censure  the  repinings, 
and  preach  patience  and  submission,  with  forgetfulness 
of  M.  Beaudesert,  who,  in  the  good  nun's  opinion,  was 
nothing  better  than  a  heretic  or  an  atheist. 

Time  and  consolation  had  a  certain  effect.  Felicite 
ceased  to  weep  half  the  night,  and  in  chapel  she  took 
her  part  in  the  avocations  of  the  convent,  and  ceased 
to  hang  so  much  upon  her  friend,  who,  though  some- 
times a  little  wearied  with  the  perpetual  lamentations, 
still  missed  the  excitement  in  the  dulness  of  her  life. 

She  had  another  interest  on  certain  days.  The 
sisters  of  Ste.  Lucie  had  established  a  connection  with 
a  monastery  lower  down  the  Seine,  and  all  their  coun- 
try provisions  were  brought  from  thence  to  their  own 
little  landing-place,  a  very  important  convenience,  as 
it  spared  both  the  octroi  and  the  transit  through  hun- 
gry Paris,  where  the  populace  might  have  permitted 
nothing  to  arrive  at  its  destination.  Caroline  found 
her  way  through  the  field  of  marguerites  and  espe- 
rances  to  the  banks  of  the  river,  and  there  witnessed 
the  handing  out  of  sacks,  faggots,  and  bags  of  char- 
coal, cheeses  also,  and  other  commodities  by  the  stout 
Norman  peasant,  the  porter,  and  the  strong-armed  lay 
sister  who  helped  him.  One  face  struck  her  as  any- 
thing but  Norman  —  more  ruddy,  more  freckled,  and 
set  in  reddish  hair,  turning  grey,  and  the  tone  was 
not  quite  French,  though  the  language  was.  She  had 
a  sense  of  recognition,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  though 
all  the  men  looked  with  wonder  at  the  unwonted  spec- 
tacle of  a  lady,  this  face  had  a  puzzled  look  of  scrutiny, 


136  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

and  at  last  a  familiar,  "Yo  ho,"  made  her  exclaim, 
"  Irish  Denny  !  "  while  at  the  same  moment  he  broke 
out  with,  "By  the  powers,  little  missy!  Ye  won't 
report  me,  miss  ?  " 

"Whom  should  I  report  you  to,  Denny?"  she 
exclaimed,  laughing.  "  I  am  sorry  you  are  a  deserter 
all  the  same." 

"  Ah,  and  thin,  Miss  Caroline,  it  never  was  the  same 
aboard  since  your  father  —  heavens  be  his  bed !  —  went 
to  glory.  Captain  Smith,  the  nagnor,  he  was  a  tyrant 
and  no  mistake,  and  when  he  gave  me  twenty  dozen 
lashes  just  for  nothing  at  all,  and  the  food  was  not 
what  a  respectable  pig  would  look  at  twice,  what 
should  hinder  me  from  swimming  off  to  Bill  Burton's 
boat — an  honest  man-of-war's-man  that  carried  on  a 
little  free  trade  with  the  Frenchies —  me  that  was 
pressed  at  the  first  in  Cork  harbour,  and  had  no  call 
to  serve  King  George  first  nor  last  ?  " 

"  Then  how  came  you  here  ?  " 

"  Ye  see,  miss,  or  ma'am,  for  some  one  tell'd  me  you 
were  married  to  young  Mr.  Aylmer — and  a  good  offi- 
cer he  was,  bless  him  —  I  could  pick  up  the  French 
lingo  faster  nor  some  of  them,  and  then  I  found  I 
could  practise  my  religion  in  these  parts,  and  there 
was  a  little  colleen  whose  black  eyes  just  made  my 
heart  no  better  nor  tinder." 

"  So  you  married  her  and  settled  down  here,  and  are 
as  good  as  a  Frenchman  ?  " 

"  You've  hit  it,  ma'am ;  only  I'd  never  fire  a  shot 
against  the  old  flag  that  the  Admiral  sailed  under. 
I've  got  a  sweet  little  house  not  far  from  Rouen,  the 
very  moral  of  my  mother's  cot  in  ould  Ireland ;  and  I 
have  a  chance  of  serving  the  good  fathers  and  the  holy 
mothers,  to  make  up  for  the  days  I  could  have  no  re- 


chap,  vin       BEAUDESERT'S   WATCHWORD  137 

ligion,  and  small  blame  to  me !  And  you  be  one  of 
them,  ma'am,  as  your  blessed  mother  was  ?  " 

"  "Well,  I  don't  quite  know  that,  Denny,  but  at  any 
rate  I  am  living  here,  with  the  good  mothers,  while 
my  husband  is  on  the  East  Indian  station,  till  I  can 
hear  about  some  property  in  Ste.  Marie  Galante." 

Deserter  as  he  was,  there  was  something  so  attrac- 
tive in  Irish  Denny,  and  the  very  sound  of  his  brogue 
was  so  pleasant  as  at  least  an  echo  of  English,  that 
Caroline  could  not  help  going  down  to  the  landing- 
place  whenever  the  boat  was  coming  in,  and  having  a 
conversation  with  him.  She  even  constructed  a  little 
hood  for  the  little  gossoon,  whom  she  soon  understood 
to  be  the  pride  of  his  heart,  and  a  ball,  which  made 
him  declare  that  he  perceived  she  knew  what  it  was 
to  be  a  mother.  Altogether  it  was  a  great  enlivenment 
in  her  rather  dreary  convent  life. 

"Oh  had  I  but  known  of  that  passage,"  sighed 
Felicite  under  her  breath,  "  before  I  was  professed ! 
And  yet  what  good  would  it  have  done?  His  rela- 
tions could  not  have  sheltered  me,  and  now,  and  now ! 
Yes,  I  know  it  was  no  genuine  vow ;  but  no  one,  noth- 
ing can  absolve  me  save  His  Holiness."  And  again 
she  wept  hopelessly. 


CHAPTEK  IX 


DEPARTURE 


Force  should  be  right ;  or  rather,  right  and  wrong, 

Between  whose  endless  jar  justice  resides, 

Should  lose  their  names,  and  so  should  justice  too. 

Then  everything  includes  itself  in  power, 

Power  into  will,  will  into  appetite  ; 

And  appetite,  an  universal  wolf, 

So  doubly  seconded  by  will  and  power, 

Must  make  perforce  an  universal  prey, 

And  last  eat  up  itself. 

Troilus  and  Cressicla. 

Letters  were  slow  in  coming  either  from  the  west 
or  east.  Western  ones  came  first,  as  Captain  Ay  liner's, 
besides  having  a  longer  passage,  went  first  to  England, 
as  he  never  knew  how  soon  his  wife  might  be  there ; 
whereas,  thns  far,  there  was  direct  communication 
between  Guadaloupe  and  Paris.  When  tidings  came 
of  the  travellers,  there  was  very  prosperous  news  of 
the  arrival.  The  charm  of  the  place  enchanted  Ma- 
dame de  Nidemerle,  who  felt  at  home  there  directly, 
and  was  sure  she  could  never  be  happy  anywhere  else. 

Her  husband,  however,  wrote  in  more  anxiety.  The 
islands  were  in  a  restless  state.  Rumours  arose  that 
all  citizens  were  to  vote  for  representatives  to  express 
their  will  to  the  National  Assembly.     This  notice  had 

138 


chap,  ix  DEPARTURE  139 

created  a  great  jealousy,  since  the  mulattoes  or  half- 
caste  races,  who  were  not  slaves,  claimed  the  same 
rights  as  the  pure  whites,  and  this  was  resisted  and 
resented  by  those  who  had  so  long  been  masters. 
The  tenure  of  property  was  insecure,  commerce  began 
to  be  threatened,  even  the  slaves  had  scented  freedom, 
and  there  was  little  chance  of  being  able  to  sell  the 
estate,  or  even  to  realise  such  an  increase  as  pre- 
viously. 

The  next  despatches  described  the  family  as  com- 
fortably settled  down  at  Ste.  Marie  Galante,  Gaspard 
perfectly  happy  with  boat  and  fishing-rod,  and  his 
mother  recurring  to  the  habits  no  doubt  ingrained  in 
her  ancestry,  for  the  gentle  apathy  and  ease  of  the 
climate  had  descended  on  her  as  well  as  on  Agathe  ; 
and  the  Abbe,  finding  them  easy-going,  indolent  schol- 
ars, was  dividing  his  time  between  natural  history  and 
teaching  the  negroes.  It  was  quite  possible  to  live 
on  the  estate  in  peace  and  plenty,  and  Monsieur  de 
Nidemerle  thought  it  would  be  better  to  remain  there, 
and  retain  possession  while  the  storm  seemed  to  be 
brewing  in  France,  and  it  might  be  safer  to  escape  the 
outburst  which  he  foresaw. 

As  to  being  able  to  send  a  share  of  the  value  of  the 
estate  to  his  dear  cousin  Caroline,  he  could  give  her  no 
hopes  —  not  even  of  remittances  until  affairs  both 
there  and  at  home  should  be  more  settled.  He  could 
only  send  her  papers  fully  establishing  her  claim,  if 
that  could  be  of  any  use  to  her,  and  he  advised  her  to 
take  them  and  see  them  registered  by  the  notary  and 
put  in  his  possession. 

With  these  papers  Mrs.  Aylmer  started  for  Paris  in 
a,  fiacre.  She  had  decided  that  there  was  little  use  in 
lingering  in  Paris,  and  she  was  longing  to  be  at  home 


140  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

with  her  children.  The  streets  were  fairly  quiet,  but 
the  notary's  clerk  wore  a  red  cap  of  liberty  on  his  head, 
looking  at  her  insolently ;  and  he  called  out  to  his 
master,  "  Citoyen,  here  is  a  citoyemie  to  see  you." 

Mrs.  Aylmer  had  no  title  to  be  forfeited,  but  she 
looked  as  if  she  had,  and  that  was  quite  enough  to  lead 
to  insult.  The  notary  durst  not  make  his  bow  till  the 
door  was  shut  between  him  and  his  clerk.  He  could 
only  confirm  what  Monsieur  de  Nidemerle  had  said. 
There  was  very  little  hope  of  her  obtaining  any  pro- 
ceeds from  the  Nidemerle  property.  He  would  take 
care  of  the  duplicate  papers  which  had  been  sent  to 
him,  but  he  advised  her  to  place  another  set  in  security 
elsewhere  if  she  could.  "  Alas !  would  anything  be 
long  their  own  ?  "  the  old  man  said,  lowering  his  voice. 

He  threw  his  tricoloured  scarf  around  him  before  he 
durst  conduct  her  to  her  carriage,  and  he  looked  almost 
reluctant  to  repeat  her  order  to  be  driven  to  the  British 
Embassy;  but  though  England's  unpopularity  had 
broken  out  again,  the  driver,  who  had  taken  her  there 
before,  and  knew  that  he  would  be  regaled  by  the 
servants,  made  no  objection,  and  promised  to  return 
for  her  the  next  day;  for  she  was  to  spend  the  Sunday 
there. 

She  was  received  as  usual  very  kindly,  and  told  that 
she  was  just  in  time,  for  a  packet  from  England  had 
just  been  brought  by  a  messenger,  and  there  was  a 
letter  for  her.  There  was  none  from  her  husband. 
She  had  heard  from  him  too  lately  to  expect  another 
letter  for  some  time,  but  there  was  one  from  her 
mother-in-law,  saying  that  both  the  children  had  been 
ill  with  whooping-cough,  and  that  the  little  boy  was 
not  recovering  favourably,  that  he  was  very  fretful 
and  pining,  and  often  asked  for  "mamma," 


chap,  ix  DEPARTURE  141 

"  My  little  son !  My  dear  little  Eustace,  I  must  go 
home.  Property,  what  is  that  to  me  ?  My  boy,  my 
boy,  I  must  get  back  to  him !  "  Such  was  Caroline's 
cry,  impetuous  as  ever,  and  her  hosts  were  quite  ready 
to  forward  her  departure. 

Lord  G-ower  thought  that  every  English  person,  not 
detained  by  absolute  duty,  would  be  better  away.  It 
was  only  a  week  since  the  royal  family,  after  a  terrible 
night  of  alarms,  had  been  dragged  into  Paris  from  Ver- 
sailles amid  cries  of  "  Here  come  the  baker,  baker's 
wife,  and  little  baker's  boy,"  by  the  frenzied  crowd, 
who  fancied  that  the  court  devoured  all  the  food,  and 
that  an  ebullition  of  loyalty  on  the  part  of  the  Guards 
meant  a  plot  to  master  the  people,  and  deprive  them 
of  the  liberties  from  which  they  expected  so  much, 
perhaps  to  butcher  them.  The  Marquis  de  La  Fayette 
had  found  himself  utterly  incapable  of  restraining  them 
or  even  of  protecting  the  life  of  the  Queen,  being,  in 
fact,  as  was  well  said  of  him,  in  a  position  too  great 
for  his  abilities.  Lord  Gower  had  seen  the  King,  who 
was  practically  a  captive  in  the  Tuileries,  but  endured 
his  situation  with  a  passive  resignation  that  looked 
like  stolidity.  Poor  man,  he  was  probably  perfectly 
aware,  though  his  loyalty  would  not  avow  it,  that  on 
him  were  being  visited  a  long  course  of  ancestral 
crimes. 

That  more  and  worse  was  to  come  was  to  be  appre- 
hended, and  the  ambassador  said  that  he  should  have 
advised  Mrs.  Aylmer's  departure  if  she  had  no  press- 
ing call.  He  could  undertake  for  her  passport,  but 
Paris  was  hardly  in  a  favourable  condition  for  depart- 
ing through  the  streets,  for  emigrants  were  beginning 
to  be  interrupted  and  watched  with  jealousy ;  and  in 
the  headless  heedless  state  of  the  mobs  even  her  claim 


142  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

to  Englishry  might  not  protect  her  from  alarms,  if 
nothing  worse. 

If  she  could  go  without  encountering  large  towns  or 
disaffected  seaports,  it  might  be  all  the  safer,  though 
no  one  could  tell  what  would  be  the  humours  from 
day  to  day.  Caroline  thought  of  her  smuggling 
friend,  the  deserter,  and  declared  that  she  thought 
she  could  make  her  way  without  encountering  much 
danger.  The  danger  of  a  river  boat,  and  uncertain 
passage  in  November,  seemed  like  nothing  to  her.  So 
before  she  took  leave,  Lord  Grower  was  able  to  provide 
her  with  a  passport  in  all  due  form,  fit  to  serve  her  if 
she  did  pass  through  Paris,  Rouen,  or  Havre,  the  last 
two  places  being  what  she  could  not  probably  avoid. 
She  would  gladly  have  gone  to  see  the  Normands,  but 
they  had  quitted  Paris.  M.  Normand's  voice  had  not 
been  heard  in  the  National  Assembly,  and  this  dis- 
appointment had  considerably  cooled  his  lady's  ardour 
in  the  cause,  and  made  her  endure  that  he  should  be 
recalled  by  provincial  business  ;  besides  that  she  had 
had  enough  of  mobs,  whom  she  had  found  not  to  be 
quite  the  humane  and  enlightened  assemblies  that  her 
imagination  had  painted  them. 

Impatiently  Caroline  waited  at  Ste.  Lucie  for  the 
next  convoy  of  wood,  rejoicing  that  it  was  sure  to  be 
a  large  one  for  the  approach  of  winter.  It  was  a 
shock  to  her  kind  entertainers  to  hear  she  was  going, 
but  the  Mother  Prioress,  a  shrewd  woman  of  the  world, 
thought  she  was  prudent.  Evil  times  were  apparently 
coming,  and  one  who  had  no  duties  to  detain  her  would 
be  better  at  a  distance.  Cecile  too  agreed  that  the  call 
was  certainly  to  the  country  of  husband  and  children. 
"  Come  with  me,  Cecile,"  she  entreated.  "  There  is 
a  chapel  in  our  town  not  far  off,  and  some  Catholic 


chap,  ix  DEPARTURE  143 

families,  and  you  could  pray  there  whenever  you 
would,  and  you  would  be  safe  with  me  from  all 
these  dreadful  men  and  their  stories.  You  would 
so  love  my  little  ones " 

"  Alas,  they  would  only  remind  me  of  my  babe  that 
only  lived  an  hour,"  said  Cecile,  beginning  to  weep. 

"Indeed  they  would  be  life  to  you.  You  love 
Agathe  and  Gaspard;  I  know  you  would  love  my 
Mary  and  Eustace." 

But  Madame  de  Henisson  was  unpersuadable ;  only 
she  promised  to  remember  her  cousin's  offer  if  things 
became  worse,  or  the  privileges  of  the  nunnery  were 
invaded. 

To  Felicite  it  was  a  blow.  "You  are  the  only  per- 
son to  whom  I  could  speak,  the  only  one  who  has  any 
feeling  for  me,  or  who  has  given  me  hope.  Oh,  ma- 
dame,  how  can  I  live  without  you?  " 

"Yet  you  have  not  been  much  with  me  of  late." 

"  No,  but  I  knew  you  were  here !  I  could  look  up 
at  your  window." 

"Look  still,  Felicite  dear.  Recollect  what  I  said 
that  nobody  is  ever  devoid  of  some  loophole  where 
they  may  see  the  light.  There  is  no  storm  that  does 
not  come  to  an  end  somehow,  sooner  or  later." 

"Ah,  often  down  in  the  depths." 

"  But,  as  my  father  used  to  say,  there  is  hope ;  the 
best  of  hopes  even  there." 

"  Oh,  why  cannot  I  keep  you  to  hearten  me ! " 

"My  mother-in-law  once  told  me,  when  I  did  not 
understand  it,  that  a  song  of  joy  is  delightful,  but 
when  one  is  able  to  sing  a  psalm  instead  of  a  song  it 
is  even  sweeter  and  better."1 

1  The  thought  is  from  an  American  book  quite  modern,  An 
Old  Maid's  Diary,  but  it  is  worthy  to  be  remembered. 


144  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

"I  do  not  understand.  Our  eternal  psalms  weary 
me !  Yes,  there  are  translations  in  our  breviaries,  but 
they  do  not  help  me." 

"  Ah,  they  will  by  and  by.  I  felt  it  when  my  hus- 
band went  away.     Think  and  try." 

"  If  you  could  always  be  with  me !  " 

Such  was  Felicite's  moan,  not  to  be  silenced  all  the 
time  that  the  boat,  La  Demoiselle,  was  waited  for. 

When  at  length  with  early  morning  she  saw,  from 
what  a  lively  nun  called  her  fenetre  mondaine,  the 
mast  of  the  ship,  it  had  a  tricoloured  flag  flying,  and 
when  she  made  her  way  down  to  the  landing-place,  to 
her  dismay,  the  name  painted  on  the  stem  was  La 
jeune  citoyenne.  Was  all  her  hope  lost?  Xo,  a  hearty 
voice  called  out,  "  All  right !  The  top  of  the  morning 
to  ye,  my  lady." 

"  The  same  to  you,  Denny ;  I  was  frightened  lest  it 
should  not  be  your  boat." 

"Bless  you,  ma'am,  the  spalpeens  down  the  river 
would  have  been  after  sinking  or  burning  the  boat  if 
I  had  not  flattered  them  by  changing  the  name  of  her 
just  by  means  of  blarney,  as  the  holy  ladies  would 
have  been  ill  off  for  their  firewood." 

He  spoke  confidentially  in  tone,  though  there  was 
no  one  who  could  understand  the  language,  his  two 
assistants  having  no  smattering  of  English. 

Caroline  ventured  to  ask,  "And  suppose  I  asked 
you  for  a  passage  on  your  return,  would  you  have  me, 
Denny?" 

"And  is  it  yourself,  Miss  Caroline,  as  would  hon- 
our me  by  sailing  under  my  flag?  Then  it's  I  that 
shall  be  the  proud  man." 

It  was  then  arranged,  partly  then  and  partly  later 
in  the  day,  that  when  all  the  stores  for  the  nunnery 


chap,  ix  DEPARTURE  145 

had  been  landed,  and  the  vessel  made  as  clean  as  was 
in  the  nature  of  herself  or  her  crew,  Mrs.  Aylmer 
should  be  taken  on  board  with  her  luggage,  Denny 
undertaking  to  transport  her  as  far  as  Rouen,  and  to 
provide  for  her  further  journey,  if  possible,  to  Havre. 
Beyond  this  he  could  not  go,  being  afraid  of  being 
recognised  by  British  crews  as  a  deserter  ;  and  at  pres- 
ent England  and  France  were  at  peace,  so  that  there 
would  be  no  difficulty  in  making  the  voyage.  He 
advised,  however,  that  she  should  wear  over  the  trav- 
elling dress  which  she  called  a  riding-habit  or  amazone, 
a  Xorman  peasant  cap,  kerchief,  and  apron,  so  as  not 
to  attract  the  attention  of  the  people  on  the  banks, 
who  might  very  well  suppose  her  to  be  a  girl  return- 
ing from  service  in  Paris. 

A  lay  sister,  who  had  come  from  Normandy,  was 
able,  in  the  course  of  the  day,  to  make  up  the  needful 
dress,  the  high  white  cap,  and  the  white  apron;  the 
coloured  neckerchief  was  supplied  from  Caroline's 
own  wardrobe;  the  lay  sister  dressed  her  abundant 
light  hair,  observing,  however,  that  a  real  Normande 
would  have  cut  it  off  and  sold  it.  Such  tresses  were 
worth  —  oh,  so  much,  so  much ! 

Caroline  looked  so  pretty  when  her  toilette  was 
complete  that  the  sisters  were  delighted,  and  could 
not  cease  from  admiring  her ;  and  little  Sceur  Fran- 
chise de  Rome  fairly  danced  about  her  in  childish 
ecstasy. 

The  maiden  did  not  wish  for  change,  she  was  per- 
fectly content ;  and  yet  a  little  change,  a  little  cos- 
tume were  a  refreshment  to  her,  enjoyed  because  of 
her  absolute  self -surrender  to  the  spiritual  life  in 
which  she  found  her  happiness.  Caroline  often  re- 
membered that  face  of  glee  and  the  form  full  of  joyous 


146  THE   RELEASE  paut  ii 

action  under  the  black  veil.  Cecile  wept,  as  she  always 
did,  but  Caroline  bade  her  remember  that  if  things 
looked  dark  in  France,  there  were  always  cousins  in 
England  who  would  gladly  welcome  her. 

The  Mother  Prioress  inquired  about  the  Roman 
Catholic  chapels  and  facilities  for  worship  in  Eng- 
land, but  Caroline  could  not  tell  her  much,  though 
she  knew  that  one  existed,  and  was  spoken  of  with 
undefined  dread  at  Downford,  as  though  some  day  it 
might  be  a  centre  to  explode  and  blow  every  one  up, 
or  light  fires  to  burn  all  the  Protestants  up. 

"Who  knows  what  times  are  coming,"  said  the 
Mother,  "  or  whither  our  poor  maidens  of  the  Church 
may  be  driven  to  seek  a  refuge?  " 

"Always  write  to  me,  if  I  can  help  you,"  said 
Caroline. 

And  amid  general  weeping,  she  took  leave,  with 
Zelie  stowed  below  only  to  show  herself  when  they 
were  quite  safe  from  spectators.  It  was  a  half -decked 
boat,  with  shelter  at  the  stern  with  no  real  accommo- 
dation, but  the  sailor's  daughter  did  not  care  for  this 
as  she  was  only  to  be  on  board  one  night,  and  the 
evenings  were  still  warm. 


CHAPTER  X 

ON    THE    SEINE 

La  Jeune  Citoyenne  was  not  by  any  means  a  dis- 
agreeable mode  of  conveyance.  Denny,  who  could 
quite  depend  on  the  two  men  and  boy  who  formed  his 
crew,  had  done  what  he  called,  in  his  comical  mixture 
of  French,  Irish,  and  sailor's  English,  "  Men  sivabbe  le 
deck  vraiment  ilegant,"  and  borrowed  a  chair  where 
madame  might  sit  in  comfort.  Her  goods  were 
packed  in  the  space  where  the  fuel  had  been,  and 
space  was  left  where  Zelie  could  be  curled  up  when- 
ever it  was  expedient  that  her  black  face  should  not 
be  observed. 

There  Caroline  sat  enthroned,  while  the  canot  or 
barge  smoothly  dropped  down  the  gentle  current  of 
the  Seine,  on  a  still  warm  day  of  early  November, 
decidedly  breathing  St.  Martin's  Little  Summer. 
Denny  ventured  to  put  up  a  somewhat  ragged  and 
dirty  brown  sail  —  a  contrast  to  the  brand-new  tri- 
colour overhead  —  a  rather  trying  flag  to  Caroline 
to  sail  under.  At  places  where  care  was  required 
Denny  himself  took  the  helm,  and  in  case  of  need  the 
oars  were  used  by  the  two  stout  Normans;  but  usu- 
ally two  persons  were  at  liberty,  and  either  the  Irish- 
man   or   his   mate   sedulously   attended   upon    their 

147 


148  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

passenger,  telling  her  the  names  of  the  villages  and 
chateaux  that  they  passed,  or  of  the  numerous  con- 
vents whose  grounds  came  down  to  the  water.  There 
was  the  forest  of  St.  Germain  with  one  grand  peep  of 
the  chateau  in  its  park,  not  looked  at  with  much  good- 
will by  the  mate,  who  was  attending  to  the  sail,  but 
by  no  means  unwilling  to  talk  to  the  lady. 

"  Eh !  "  he  said,  as  the  morning  sun  touched  the  tops 
of  the  trees,  and  revealed  a  few  deer  grazing  upon  the 
green  sward,  "  there  will  soon  be  an  end,  they  say,  of 
all  those  enclosures,  and  the  laws  that  punish  a  poor 
man  for  even  touching  one  of  those  beasts  that  the 
gentlemen  foster  on  our  crops  for  their  own  pleasure." 

All  the  spirit  of  the  old  poacher,  braconnier  or  Nor- 
man complaining  of  forest  laws,  was  in  the  man,  and 
it  was  plain  that  he,  like  his  kind,  would  soon  be 
devastating  the  preserves  of  all  kinds  of  game. 

Through  the  towns  it  was  thought  needful  for  Zelie 
to  disappear ;  indeed  the  men  regarded  her  with  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  awe,  and  saw  her  eat  and  drink  and 
speak  much  as  they  would  have  looked  on  at  a  mon- 
key's performance. 

No  obstruction  was  met  with,  but  it  was  not  possible 
to  continue  the  journey  in  the  dark,  so  the  canot  had 
to  be  moored  in  the  twilight  in  a  village,  where  Denny 
undertook  for  the  reception  that  madame  might  have 
from  Mere  Nanon,  an  old  pay sanne  whom  he  had  known 
for  many  years,  and  whose  eggs  and  butter  he  was 
wont  to  call  for  on  his  upward  voyages  for  Ste.  Lucie, 
secretly,  for  fear  the  steward  should  find  out  the  trade, 
think  she  was  growing  too  prosperous,  and  come  down 
on  her  with  some  exaction. 

She  lived  close  to  the  banks,  and  Denny  assisted 
the  lady  to  walk  over  a  slippery  board,  and  then  over 


chap,  x  ON  THE   SEINE  149 

some  stepping-stones  through  the  quaking  banks.  She 
enjoyed  this,  and  tripped  over  gaily,  but  poor  Zelie 
stood  quaking  on  the  end  of  the  plank,  afraid  to  put 
out  a  foot,  in  spite  of  her  mistress's  encouragement. 
"  Pray  help  her,  Denny,  she  is  old  and  unused  to  such 
places,  my  good  old  nurse." 

"  Come  on  thin,  in  the  name  of  the  saints,  my  dear. 
There's  nothing  to  hurt  yer  barring  a  frog  or  two,  and 
maybe  you  are  used  to  worse  nor  that  —  a  crocodile 
or  two  !  There  —  your  foot  there  —  and  I've  got  a 
good  grip  of  the  black  hand  of  ye  —  leap  now  —  and 
ye'll  be  as  safe  as  if  ye  were  in  Our  Lady's  Church." 

Then,  having  safely  landed  the  negress,  he  bade  the 
two  "  come  up  aisy  now,"  and  they  proceeded  slowly, 
while  he  sprang  up  a  rough  path,  leading  beneath  a 
chestnut  tree  to  a  low  hovel,  in  front  of  which  an  old 
woman  sat  spinning.  What  passed  between  them  was 
in  the  rapidest  possible  French,  which  Caroline  could 
not  half  understand,  but  it  ended  in  the  old  lady,  re- 
splendent in  white  cap  and  long  gold  ear-rings,  coming 
down  with  the  lowest  of  curtsies  and  outstretched 
hands  to  welcome  her,  and  assure  her  that  "  all  was  at 
her  service.  Ah  oui  I  Any  friend  of  ce  bon  Denis ! 
Yes,  and  even  la  noire.  Had  she  not  heard  that  there 
were  such  beyond  the  sea,  for  whom  our  good  priest 
had  collected  our  alms  on  Sundays  ?  Ah !  but  was 
she  indeed  a  good  Christian  ?  "  as  Zelie  fell  on  her 
knees  before  a  little  shrine  containing  a  small  image 
of  Our  Lady. 

Nothing  more  was  needed ;  Mere  Manon  sprang  to 
her  and  embraced  her,  and  was  astonished  to  hear  her 
respond  in  very  fair  French.  "  Ah !  even  she  speaks 
French !  " 

Caroline,  whom   she   perfectly  understood  to  be  a 


150  THE    RELEASE  part  ii 

lady  in  spite  of  the  disguise,  was  installed  in  a  wicker- 
chair,  in  a  room  that  might  be  described  as  "  assez 
propre"  but  which  was  very  inferior  to  the  dwellings 
of  the  labourers  on  the  Walwyn  estate,  having  nothing 
in  it  save  the  chair,  a  spinning-wheel,  a  table,  a  bench, 
and  a  sort  of  dresser  with  a  few  articles  of  crockery 
upon  it.  There  was  a  turf  fire,  small  but  bright,  and 
Mere  Manon  hastened  to  cook  an  omelette  over  it, 
withstanding  all  her  visitor's  entreaties  and  demon- 
strations of  having  brought  food  with  her,  and  show- 
ing truly  polite  hospitality.  There  were  only  brown 
bowls  and  beechen  trenchers  for  the  table,  and  the 
coarsest  brown  bread ;  but  not  only  was  there  omelette, 
but  there  was  a  pot  au  feu  over  the  hearth,  savoury 
with  all  sorts  of  vegetables,  and  with  certain  bones  in 
it,  in  which  Caroline  detected  the  leg  and  breast  of  a 
pheasant. 

"  Ah !  they  did  not  fear  to  show  such  things  now," 
the  hostess  said,  nodding  at  Denny.  "The  neigh- 
bours had  risen  on  Colas,  the  Garde  Champetre,  so 
that  he  had  barely  escaped  with  his  life,  and  she 
believed  he  had  made  his  way  to  the  town  and  en- 
deavoured to  escape  suspicion  of  his  former  trade  by 
pretending  to  be  a  sans-culotte  outre" 

At  the  moment  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  and 
a  little,  unkempt,  ragged  child  looked  in.  "  De  grace, 
Mere  Manon,  we  have  nothing  to  eat,  my  mother  is  so 
white  —  so  weak.  She  will  die,  and  the  neighbours 
all  beat  me  from  the  door." 

"She  is  the  poor  child  of  the  Garde  Champetre," 
explained  Mere  Manon.  "The  neighbours  spite  the 
family  because  of  the  injuries  they  have  suffered  from 
the  father,  and  they  are  almost  starved." 

The  poor  child  did  not  go  away  without  food  or 


chap,  x  ON  THE   SEINE  151 

money;  Mere  Manon  was  plainly  one  who  did  good  to 
all  parties  alike  when  in  distress.  "  She  might  have 
come  from  the  county  of  Cork,"  said  Denny. 

Her  bed,  reminding  Caroline  of  the  berth  of  a  ship, 
was  not  inviting,  and  sleep  on  the  bench  was  prefer- 
able ;  though  it  was  with  aching  limbs  that  the  very 
early  summons  was  obeyed,  and  with  a  draught  of 
milk  and  piece  of  rye  bread  seasoned  with  a  thousand 
thanks,  and  the  blessings  of  the  good  old  woman, 
Caroline  embarked  once  more,  and  in  the  foggy  close 
of  the  November  day,  saw  the  steeples  of  Bouen  rise 
before  her. 

Denny  rejoiced  in  the  heavy  mist  which  would  enable 
him  to  make  his  way  to  the  wharf  without  remarks  on 
his  passengers.  When  safely  moored  there,  Caroline 
was  advised  to  keep  out  of  sight  below,  while  Denny 
made  his  way  to  M.  Normand's  with  a  note  that  she 
gave  him,  and  tried  to  ascertain  whether  it  was  safe 
for  her  to  land. 

It  seemed  an  interminable  time  before  he  came  back, 
and  mistress  and  maid  tormented  themselves  with  all 
kinds  of  conjectures,  such  as  that  he  had  been  arrested 
and  sent  to  prison,  or  that  M.  Normand  was  afraid  to 
notice  them ;  but  at  length  the  plash  of  his  oars  was 
heard,  and  he  soon  came  on  board,  bringing  a  horn 
lantern  with  him.  "  Monsieur  was  waiting  at  the  end 
of  the  street,"  he  said.  "He  thought  madame  had 
better  land,  and  in  her  dress  as  a  lady,  and  he  would 
undertake  for  her  further  progress." 

It  was  welcome  news,  and  as  well  as  she  could,  in 
the  scanty  space  and  scantier  light,  she  threw  on  a 
cloak,  took  off  the  conspicuous  apron,  and  assumed  the 
large  hat  and  feathers,  the  least  remarkable  head-gear 
of  the  time.     She  murmured  her  thanks  and  put  a 


152  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

coin  into  the  hands  of  the  crew,  descended  the  side  of 
the  little  vessel  with  practised  agility,  and  was  rowed 
below  a  lamp  suspended  from  a  beam  projecting  over 
the  water.  Such  a  lantern  hung  at  intervals  along 
the  streets  and  at  the  crossings,  but  all  was  very  dark, 
except  around  them,  and  a  little  light  pouring  down  from 
the  upper  windows  of  the  tall  houses  which  nearly 
met  over  the  narrow  streets ;  and  the  dirt  could  only 
be  guessed  at  through  sounds  of  splashing  under  each 
step,  as  Caroline  clung  to  her  friend's  arm  as  they 
made  their  way  up  the  town,  to  the  porte  cochere  of 
a  handsome  old  house,  where  a  light  hung  over  the 
entrance,  and  Madame  Norniand  came  flying  down 
the  stairs  to  embrace  her  with  "  effusion,"  as  if  she 
had  been  the  oldest  of  friends. 

Soon  Mrs.  Aylmer,  apologising  for  her  riding-habit, 
was  seated  at  supper,  being  hospitably  and  affection- 
ately entertained,  and  exchanging  tidings  and  advice. 
Normandy  was  as  yet  not  in  a  dangerous  state,  and 
not  indisposed  towards  the  English,  and  communica- 
tion was  open ;  so  M.  Normand  advised  that,  as  Caro- 
line's passport  was  in  full  order,  she  should  go  to 
Havre  in  her  own  person,  as  an  English  lady,  and 
there  embark  in  a  packet.  He  would  send  to  Havre 
to  ascertain  the  day  when  such  a  vessel  would  cross, 
and  in  the  meantime  she  would  become  his  guest,  her 
luggage  being  brought  up  in  early  morning  from  La 
Jenne  Citoyenne. 

Madame  was  in  transports  of  welcome,  and  Caroline, 
who  was  very  tired  after  her  bad  night  and  early  ris- 
ing at  Mere  Manon's,  was  conducted  to  the  guest- 
chamber,  a  huge  place,  like  a  salon  except  for  the 
great  bed,  hung  with  richly  embroidered  silk.  Ma- 
dame Normand  hovered  about  assisting  her  to  undress, 


chap,  x  ON  THE   SEINE  153 

and  assuring  her  that  she  had  enough  to  tell  and  to 
hear  to  last  a  day,  no,  a  year  of  that  dear  Henri  and 
his  Felicite. 

Caroline  was  too  much  tired  out  to  remember  at 
first  who  was  ce  cher  Henri,  but  when  the  name  of 
Beaudesert  was  added  she  almost  wakened  to  interest. 
Madame  Normand,  however,  had  the  discretion  to  say 
she  would  wait  till  her  friend  had  rested,  and  Caroline 
sank  among  her  pillows  with  a  feeling  of  repose,  and 
of  being  so  far  on  her  way  to  her  little  son. 

Denny  and  one  of  his  men  brought  up  her  boxes  in 
the  morning,  and  rather  to  her  hosts'  surprise  she 
insisted  on  going  down  to  see  and  pay  and  thank  him. 
He  was  glad  of  the  arrangement,  for  he  said,  "  I'd 
have  been  proud  to  have  taken  you  to  Havre,  ma'am, 
but  maybe  it  is  safer  not.  The  English  sailors  may 
any  time  be  about  there,  and  an  old  man-of-war's-man 
might  know  me,  and  be  dirty  enough  to  inform  on 
me." 

"  They  could  not  take  you  here." 

"Not  they,  blessings  on  St.  Denis,  that  is  my  pathron 
as  well  as  this  country's,  though  they  have  disowned 
him  now,  the  spalpeens !  But  it  might  make  it  the 
worse  for  me  if  I  were  took  in  the  free  trade  —  not 
that  I  would  heed  it  a  moment  if  it  was  for  you, 
ma'am,  or  the  holy  ladies  up  at  Ste.  Lucy's.  You  are 
after  writing  a  line  to  them  ?  " 

"  Yes,  if  you  will  take  one  when  you  go  down  again 
to  Ste.  Lucie." 

"  Then  might  I  be  so  bold  as  to  ask  you  to  tell  them 
that  if  ever  Dennis  Molony  can  do  them  a  turn,  they 
might  walk  on  his  head,  and  he  would  hold  it  all  as 
the  greatest  honour  of  his  life  —  that  he  would  lay 
down  and  glad  if  it  was  to  help  one  of  them  from  the 


154  THE    RELEASE  part  ii 

villain  rogues  that  are  casting  ugly  looks  on  the  holy 
places." 

"  I  will  tell  them,  Denny,  with  all  my  heart,  in  the 
letter  I  am  going  to  send  back  by  you  as  a  surer  hand 
than  the  post.  I  will  unseal  and  add  your  message  to 
Madame  de  Henisson,  who  will  deliver  it  safely  to  the 
Mother  Prioress.  Will  you  wait  here  while  I  write 
it?" 

Denny  was  glad  to  do  so.  "  The  blessings  of  Our 
Lady  be  on  you,  ma'am  dear !  You  have  as  under- 
standing a  heart  as  if  you  were  born  a  Catholic,  like 
one  of  us,  and  I'll  never  cease  praying  that  heavens 
may  be  your  bed,  and  St.  Peter  may  wink  at  you  as 
you  goes  by,  Protestant  though  you  be !  " 

Caroline  was  almost  ready  to  tell  Denny  that  she 
believed  that  she  had  been  baptized  by  a  Roman 
Catholic  priest,  but  she  shrank  from  the  controversy 
that  this  confession  might  involve  with  the  faithful 
Irishman,  and  contented  herself  with  adding  to  her 
letter  to  Cecile  his  ardent  offers  of  assistance,  saying 
that  she  thought  him  wholly  sound-hearted  and  to  be 
depended  upon.  She  was  not  without  thoughts  of 
Felicite  as  she  wrote,  though  she  had  little  hope  of 
release  for  the  poor  child,  whose  conscience  and 
family  would  bind  her,  even  if  the  doors  of  her  con- 
vent were  broken  open. 

Madame  Normand,  as  soon  as  her  numerous  house- 
hold occupations  were  finished,  and  her  husband  gone 
after  a  late  breakfast  to  his  bureau,  came  to  sit  with 
her  guest  and  discuss  the  affairs  of  the  unfortunate 
lovers  with  her.  She  had  heard  from  Henri  de  Beau- 
desert,  who  seemed  to  be  prospering  well  in  the 
United  States.  His  count  had  scientific  friends  there 
to  whom  he  had  been  recommended,  and  he  had  had 


chap,  x  ON   THE   SEINE  155 

the  good  fortune  to  find  some  valuable  ore  in  one  of 
the  hills  bounding  Georgia,  and  had  been  installed 
there  as  manager  of  the  mining  which  was  being 
commenced. 

"Alas!"  he  said,  "  if  one  most  beloved  were  only 
here,  I  should  be  quite  happy.  Nothing  would  be 
wanting  to  me.  Ah !  my  dear  cousin,  do  not  tell  me 
that  I  am  insensate  in  still  cherishing  hope.  You  tell 
me  that  the  good  English  lady  who  witnessed  the 
cruel  ceremony  of  her  profession  says  that  she  fal- 
tered and  fainted  and  scarcely  uttered  the  vows.  Can 
it  be  that  she  is  not  thus  bound  ?  Strange  bouleverse- 
ments  are,  by  all  accounts,  happening  at  home.  How 
will  it  be  with  convents  and  enforced  vows  ?  I  often 
ask  myself,  and  keep  life  in  my  heart,  for  Felicite 
will  ever  be  wanting  to  me." 

Tears  sprang  to  Caroline's  eyes  as  she  listened,  and 
recollected  how  poor  Felicite  was  longing  on  her  side 
in  her  convent ;  and  she  related  the  conversations  she 
had  held. 

"  Ah  !  they  will  be  brought  together,"  cried  Madame 
Normand  ;  "  the  impossible  must  come  to  pass." 


CHAPTEE   XI 


FRENCH    AND    EXGLISH 


Grief  dwells  in  France  and  England 

For  many  a  noble  son ; 
Yet  louder  than  the  sorrow, 

"Thy  will,  0  Lord,  be  done." 

A.  A.  Procter. 

There  was  no  difficulty  in  accomplishing  Mrs. 
Aylmer's  journey  to  Havre  and  embarkation  in  an 
English,  packet,  which  conveyed  her  safely  to  Ports- 
mouth; here  her  husband  was  of  course  known,  and 
money  could  be  obtained  for  her  homeward  journey, 
which  was  taken  partly  by  coach  and  afterwards  by 
post-chaise  to  Downford. 

Through  the  Dorsetshire  chalk-hills  she  drove, 
sometimes  sticking  fast  in  the  deeply  rutted  mud, 
sometimes  feeling  bound  to  walk  up  the  hills  to 
ease  the  toiling  horses,  while  Zelie  groaned  and 
sighed  at  the  damp  cold.  At  last  they  were  in  sight 
of  the  old  town,  a  county  town  with  a  street  of  hand- 
some old  residences,  some  still  occasionally  used  by 
the  gentry  in  the  winter  when  they  did  not  desire  to 
be  isolated  by  snow  or  mud  from  all  intercourse  with 
society.  Captain  Aylmer  had  inherited  one  of  these, 
probably  an  old  monastery,  though  altered  and  freshly 
156 


chap,  xi  FRENCH   AND   ENGLISH  157 

faced  with  freestone  quoins  and  sash  windows ;  and  it 
was  his  home  when  on  shore  as  well  as  his  mother's, 
though,  even  now  that  a  nursery  had  been  added  to 
it,  it  was  much  too  large.  Welcome  to  Caroline  was 
the  sight  of  the  row  of  poplar  trees  in  front ;  and  at 
the  sound  of  the  carriage  the  big  door  flew  open,  and 
on  the  steps  appeared  first  a  little  girl  in  a  round  cap, 
white  frock,  and  blue  sash,  with  outspread  arms ;  then 
a  sweet-faced  old  lady  in  a  big  white  cap  going  round 
under  the  chin,  a  black  silk  gown,  and  white  apron, 
and  beside  her  a  tiny  boy,  dressed  like  his  sister, 
and  a  bevy  of  servants  behind,  headed  by  the  old  one- 
armed  sailor  butler. 

The  little  Nancy  or  Annora  was  instantly  in  her 
mother's  arms,  then  came  grandmamma's  kiss  and 
the  stoop  to  lift  up  the  boy,  who,  shy  and  frightened, 
retreated  behind  his  grandmother's  skirts  and  showed 
symptoms  of  crying,  all  the  more  because  there  was 
a  general  exclamation  of  "  Oh !  Eustace,  Eustace !  it 
is  mamma.     Oh  !  don't  be  a  bad  boy." 

So  hungry  felt  her  bosom  and  arms  for  the  child 
that  Caroline  too  might  almost  have  cried  at  this 
rejection  by  her  boy,  but  the  sight  of  poor  Zelie's 
black  face  awakened  a  screaming  fit  on  the  part  of 
each  child ;  only  Nancy  clung  to  her  mother  and  the 
boy  to  his  grandmother.  The  negress,  who  had 
known  such  demonstrations  before,  was  quite  ready  to 
efface  herself  in  the  kitchen  ;  while  the  children,  with 
the  boy  still  sobbing,  were  taken  into  the  parlour. 
Caroline  made  another  attempt  to  embrace  him,  but 
he  hid  his  face  on  his  grandmother's  shoulder,  though 
his  sister's  little  voice  assured  him. 

"  Why,  baby,  it  is  mamma  at  last." 

"  You  have  been  talking  all  day  of  mamma  coming 


158  THE    RELEASE  part  ii 

home,"  added  the  grandmother.  "  Won't  you  look  at 
her  ?  "  but  as  he  kept  his  rather  peaked  and  pale  face 
turned  resolutely  away,  "  Ah !  never  mind,  we  must 
take  our  time." 

"  Ah !  "  said  Caroline,  quite  in  tears,  "  that's  what 
comes  of  running  away  from  one's  children." 

"  Never  mind,  it  will  all  be  right  soon,"  said  grand- 
mamma, settling  herself,  with  the  little  Eustace  on 
her  lap,  but  still  turning  his  back  to  the  stranger 
fondling  and  being  fondled  by  his  flaxen-haired  sister. 
"Have  you  any  letters  from  George?"  was,  of 
course,  the  question. 

"  Not  since  the  last  I  sent  you  —  from  Bombay  — 
on  the  5th  of  June." 

By  this  time  the  little  legs  were  getting  restless, 
and  the  dark  eyes  peeped  round  for  one  moment,  and 
then  were  turned  rapidly  back  again  as  soon  as  they 
caught  the  eager  glances  bent  on  them. 

"  The  5th  !  Oh  !  when  did  you  send  them  ?  Can  I 
have  missed  any  ?  " 

Eustace  began  a  hard  studying  stare. 
"  Papa  wrote  me  a  little  letter  in  great  big  writing," 
put  in  Nancy.     "  All  mine  !     I  have  got  it  in  my  red 
box." 

The  kiss  with  which  this  was  received  brought  mas- 
ter down  from  grandmamma's  knee  to  run  across  and 
try  to  push  his  sister  aside,  but  the  mother  was  only 
too  happy  to  gather  them  both  together  into  her  bosom. 
"  Now  I  am  really  come  home,"  she  said.  "  Nobody 
wanting  but  papa.     And  oh !  tell  me  about  him." 

"  I  will  get  my  letter,"  said  the  proud  Nancy,  but 
alas !  a  run  to  the  nursery  brought  her  down  in  alarm 
and  dismay,  crying,  "Nasty  black  woman  in  the 
nursery." 


chap,  xi  FRENCH   AND   ENGLISH  159 

Then  came  the  soothing  assurance  that  "  Poor  dear 
Zelie  was  very  good,  and  had  been  mother's  nana," 
and  Caroline  herself  had  to  lead  the  child  up  to  the 
old  woman,  and  make  her  submit  to  the  kiss  with  a 
trembling  recoil ;  but  the  boy  was  by  no  means  to  be 
brought.  He  put  his  hands  before  his  face,  screamed, 
and  kicked,  and  grandmamma  advised  that  the  battle 
should  be  given  up  during  the  weary  hours  of  evening. 

Indeed  he  screamed  in  his  sleep,  and  when  the  elder 
Mrs.  Aylmer  bent  over  him,  piteously  declared  that 
"  Mamma  had  come  home  with  a  black  face." 

Nurse  was  for  scolding  and  slapping  him,  but  grand- 
mamma carried  him  off  to  her  own  bed. 

In  such  domestic  troubles,  and  in  the  exchange  of 
tidings  about  the  absent  father,  passed  the  evening 
hours,  and  very  happy,  peaceful,  and  restful  wTas  the 
ensuing  Sunday  when  Caroline  joined  again  in  the 
services  she  had  learnt  to  love  and  had  so  often 
missed.  True,  she  was  in  a  narrow  pew,  and  had  to 
look  up  at  a  tall  carved  sentry-box;  but  she  was  be- 
tween her  little  girl  and  that  dear  grandmother,  and 
she  heard  the  familiar  words  praying  for  those  that 
travel  by  land  and  water. 

And  in  the  walks  to  and  fro,  after  exchange  of 
greetings  with  many  and  old  congratulating  acquaint- 
ance, though  the  streets  with  the  shuttered  shop  win- 
dows might  be  dull,  there  was  a  wonderful  sense  of 
rest  in  the  free,  fearless  walk  home  through  the 
broad,  clean,  open  way  bordered  with  closely  clipped 
trees,  without  dread  either  of  mud  below,  or  the  far 
worse  dread  of  a  truculent  mob,  yelling  for  the  down- 
fall of  somebody  or  something.  Mrs.  Aylmer  would 
hardly  believe  her  when  she  said  that  to  lady  could 
attempt  to  set  foot  in  the  Paris  streets. 


160  THE   RELEASE  pakt  ii 

To  her  surprise  and  delight,  the  first  sight  on  her 
return  to  the  house  was  Master  Eustace,  enthroned 
and  grinning  in  Zelie's  arms,  pinching  her  black 
cheek,  and  playing  with  her  coral  necklace. 

After  the  convent  life,  spent  on  the  outside  of  ser- 
vices in  which  she  was  forbidden  to  share,  Mrs.  Ayl- 
mer's  Sunday  was  lively  as  well  as  restful  to  her; 
and  there  were  the  children  —  not  permitted,  young 
as  they  were,  to  be  boisterous  —  but  delighted  to  ex- 
hibit to  her  the  Noah's  ark,  their  father's  grand  part- 
ing present,  to  say  some  of  Watts'  hymns,  and  Nancy 
could  even  repeat  the  four  first  answers  in  the  Church 
Catechism.  Then  came  out  the  big  many-pictured 
Bible,  inherited  from  several  generations,  and  eager 
little  tongues,  stumbling  one  over  the  other,  explained 
about  "  naughty  Cain,"  or  "  poor,  poor  Joseph  in  the 
pit,  and  his  cruel  brothers." 

It  was  home,  it  was  rest;  and  there  was  ample 
pleasure  too  the  next  day,  when  the  unpacking  took 
place  and  the  French  toys  that  Caroline  had  secured 
a  good  while  before  her  return  were  unfolded,  —  the 
unfailing  doll,  the  delight  of  every  generation,  and  the 
great  curly  white  poodle.  While  against  the  future 
times  appeared  the  dissected  map  of  the  world,  an  in- 
vention, it  was  said,  of  the  poor  King  for  his  children. 
For  grandmamma  there  was  a  beautiful  soft  cashmere 
shawl ;  the  like,  only  in  bright  colours,  for  Aunt  Dar- 
pent. 

"Please,  please,  give  grandmamma  the  blue  and 
pink,"  entreated  Nancy,  "  with  all  the  yellow  and  red 
curlyworlies.     It  is  so  much  the  prettiest." 

"  No,  no,  my  love,  grandmamma  never  wears  bright 
things,"  said  Mrs.  Aylmer. 

"Oh  do  —  do  —  grandmamma;   I  do  love  you,  and 


chap,  xi  FRENCH   AND   ENGLISH  161 

I  can't  bear  Aunt  Darpent,"  was  Nancy's  cry ;  and 
Eustace  responded  with  "  Nasty  Aunt  Darpent,  ugly 
up  in  her  face." 

At  that  moment  a  tremendous  knocking  at  the  front 
door  resounded  through  the  house,  and  the  children, 
rushing  to  the  window,  proclaimed :  "  Uncle  Darpent 
—  making  a  funny  face  —  poking  his  whip  up.  Oh, 
and  that's  Aunt  Darpent  in  the  red  riding-habit." 

Down,  of  course,  went  the  two  ladies,  sending  the 
children  off  to  the  nursery  to  be  made  presentable, 
and  the  ladies  took  off  their  aprons,  and  arranged 
their  hair  before  the  glass.  Each  was  smothered  in  a 
big  wide-bordered  cap,  but  Mrs.  Aylmer  wore  powder, 
and  Caroline  followed  the  prevailing  French  fashion 
and  showed  her  light-brown  tresses,  with  one  long 
lovelock  on  her  shoulder.  Her  dress,  too,  was  much 
more  scanty,  and  clung  more  closely  than  what  the 
other  ladies  wore ;  and  she  saw  and  felt  that  this  was 
what  first  struck  the  eye  of  Mrs.  Darpent  as  they 
entered  the  parlour,  curtseying  as  they  did  so,  but 
being  received  with  embraces  and  the  voluble  expla- 
nation that  the  roads  were  impassable  for  the  chaise, 
and  so  Mrs.  Darpent  had  ridden  over  on  a  pillion  on 
Dobbin. 

"  The  only  beast  that  would  bear  her  weight,"  said 
her  husband,  laughing,  "and  he  was  near  enough  to 
protesting  on  Hardclimb  Hill.  It  is  another  question 
how  we  are  to  get  him  home." 

"That  is  all  your  uncle's  jokes;  you  know  him, 
niece  Caroline,"  said  Mrs.  Darpent,  who  in  these 
years  had  grown  in  massiveness  in  proportion  to  the 
diminution  of  her  husband's  weight.  Not  that  he 
looked  unwell ;  he  was  active  and  wiry,  but  to  Caro- 
line's mind  the  French  extraction  showed  itself  more 


162  THE    RELEASE  part  ii 

than  when  he  was  younger.  In  that  he  approved 
himself  as  a  relative,  with  his  black  brows,  bright 
keen  eyes,  and  brown  skin,  alert  movements,  and  with 
his  hair  drawn  back  into  a  queue.  His  greeting  was, 
however,  as  English  as  possible. 

"  Well,  Caroline,  my  dear,  how  goes  it  with  you  ? 
I'm  right  glad  to  see  you  back  from  foreign  parts, 
with  your  head  on  your  shoulders." 

"I  am  rejoiced  that  you  are  returned  again," 
chimed  in  Mrs.  Darpent,  who  had  highly  disapproved 
of  Caroline's  journey,  and  intimated  the  same  to  her 
and  her  husband  before  she  went,  and  afterwards 
croaked  continually. 

"  I  hope  you  obtained  your  purpose,"  she  added 
drily,  in  a  tone  that  evidently  expressed  quite  a 
different  hope,  so  that  Caroline  was  sorry  not  to  be 
able  to  disappoint  her  with  truth,  and  only  said 
lightly,  "We  expect  to  know  more  when  the  affairs 
of  the  colonies  are  arranged." 

"  Ah !  I  knew  nothing  was  to  be  gained  by  your 
expedition.     And  how  does  the  poor  little  boy  ?  " 

This  was  answered  by  the  opening  of  the  door,  and 
the  appearance  of  the  children,  very  prim  and  shy, 
the  girl  "  bridling "  and  curtseying,  the  boy  bowing, 
but  at  once  running  up  to  his  grandmother,  and  lay- 
ing his  face  in  her  lap. 

Grunt  went  Mrs.  Darpent.  "That's  always  the 
way  with  spoilt  children,  I  never  allowed  mine  in 
such  bad  manners." 

It  was  an  old  sore  that  Captain  Aylmer  had  chosen 
to  leave  his  children  with  his  mother  instead  of  with 
their  great-aunt.  Caroline  thought  she  remembered 
battles  with  bashfulness  in  which  Mrs.  Darpent  had 
not  come  off  the  conqueror. 


chap,  xt  FRENCH   AND   ENGLISH  163 

"  Poor  little  man  !  he  has  not  been  well,"  suggested 
the  mother. 

"  What  could  you  expect  from  children  left  without 
a  mother's  care  for  six  months  ?  " 

"  Come,  come,  that's  over  now.  Come  here,  Nancy, 
come,  Eustace !  You  all  know  where  to  look  in  my 
pockets,"  called  out  the  uncle,  holding  out  his  arms  to 
the  children,  who  both  ran  up  to  him,  and  were  taken 
on  his  two  knees,  where  they  dived  into  his  big  waist- 
coat pockets. 

"I  hope  you  succeeded  in  your  object,  Caroline," 
proceeded  Mrs.  Darpent. 

"  I  cannot  say  our  affairs  have  come  to  any  satis- 
factory conclusion,"  returned  Caroline  ;  "  they  say  it  is 
impossible  while  the  affairs  of  all  the  colonies  remain 
so  unsettled." 

"  Ah !  probably  all  would  have  gone  just  as  well  as 
if  you  had  remained  at  home.  Only  then  you  would 
have  lost  your  Paris  gaiety." 

"  I  did  not  see  much  gaiety,"  said  Caroline ;  "  people 
were  too  anxious." 

"  Oh !  they'll  have  the  devil  to  pay,  now  they  have 
once  begun  to  give  vent  to  their  abuses,"  said  Mr. 
Darpent,  while  his  little  great-niece,  patting  him, 
exclaimed  — 

"Don't  say  naughty  words,  Uncle  Darpent." 

"Quite  right,  little  pussy  cat,"  he  said,  laughing, 
"  but  that  old  gentleman  has  had  his  will  among  them 
secretly  for  so  many  years,  no  wonder  he  is  bursting 
out  at  last.  Our  forefathers  did  well  to  come  away, 
eh,  Carry  ?  " 

"  And  I  wonder  any  one  should  hanker  after  going 
back  again,"  said  his  wife ;  "  but  excitement  lias  its 
charms  for  you  all." 


104  THE    RELEASE  part  ii 

"  Bred  in  the  bone,"  laughed  Mr.  Darpent. 

Caroline  could  not  help  defending  herself. 

"  Captain  Aylmer  wished  me  to  go  to  Paris  for  the 
sake  of  the  children,  and  Monsieur  de  Nidemerle  and 
the  lawyer  advised  me  to  wait  to  hear  from  Ste.  Marie 
Galante.  Indeed  I  came  home  as  soon  as  I  could,  and 
I  was  far  from  the  world  after  my  cousins  went." 

"  In  a  nunnery,"  sniffed  Mrs.  Darpent,  with  infinite 
scorn  in  the  sound,  "  but  that  was  your  doing,  Mr.  Dar- 
pent, letting  the  poor  child  go  there  long  ago." 

"  Indeed !  I  thought  it  was  some  one  else  who  in- 
sisted on  my  taking  her  to  France." 

"  As  if  I  had  known  what  they  meant  to  do  with 
her,  or  would  have  consented,  had  I  been  there." 

"  You  might  have  gone  with  me,  and  studied  the 
situation,"  observed  her  husband. 

"  I !  'tis  not  my  way  to  leave  my  poor  children  to 
pine  themselves  to  thread  papers,  and  get  the  manners 
of  bears  in  my  absence.  I'm  a  true  born  English- 
woman, and  don't  run  after  French  habits  or  Popish 
customs." 

So  the  wrangling  went  on,  whenever  the  husband 
tried  to  avert  the  point  of  his  wife's  arrows.  Caroline 
knew  that  it  was  the  usual  style  of  conversation,  and 
that  they  loved  each  other  heartily  all  the  time,  but  it 
jarred  on  her  as  a  disagreeable  novelty  after  being 
habituated  to  French  graces  of  conversation.  Yet  she 
was  sorry  when  her  uncle  jumped  up,  declaring  that 
he  must  go  and  see  that  his  horse  was  fed,  while  Mrs. 
Aylmer  regretted  that  he  had  not  put  it  up  in  her 
stable,  though  she  feared  that  there  might  be  damp. 
And  Mrs.  Darpent  declared  with  a  cough  that  she  did 
not  come  sponging  on  her  neighbours. 

The  uncle's  presence  had  been  a  protection,  for  as 


chap,  xi  FRENCH   AND   ENGLISH  165 

soon  as  he  was  gone  his  lady  proceeded  to  inspect 
Caroline  closely,  and  express  her  disapproval  of  the 
French  fashions,  which  had  begun  to  imitate  the  classi- 
cal, and  were  as  far  as  possible  removed  from  the  days 
of  hoop  and  powder;  and  she  did  not  scruple  to  call 
them  ''vastly  improper." 

The  hair,  too,  was  unpowdered,  and  only  of  the 
natural  height,  though  covered  by  a  big  white  cap.  It 
was  a  shocking  sight  to  the  two  ladies,  both  of  them, 
all  the  more  because  the  young  traveller  laughed 
heartily  at  their  consternation,  and  declared  that  she 
could  not  have  gone  about  otherwise.  "Every  one  at 
Paris  was  trying  to  look  like  a  Greek  statue.  And 
depend  upon  it,  it  would  be  the  same  in  London." 

"Well,  I  have  seen  a  picture  in  a  number  of  the 
Lady's  Magazine"  owned  Mrs.  Darpent.  "Naomi  bor- 
rowed it  and  brought  it  to  me,  but  I  thought  it  was 
only  the  fine  fashionable  good-for-nought  ladies  that 
made  themselves  such  a  spectacle.  Bless  me !  what 
are  we  coining  to.  No  powder !  It  is  quite  indecent. 
You  did  not  let  her  show  herself  in  church  that  figure, 
dear  madam  ?  " 

"Really,  I  was  so  glad  to  have  her  go  to  church 
with  me  again  that  I  scarcely  saw  what  she  had  on 
under  her  shepherdess  hat." 

"I  don't  know  what  we  shall  come  to  without 
powder  !  and  with  all  those  Popish  ways." 

"They  are  throwing  off  their  Popish  ways,  more's 
the  pity,"  said  Caroline. 

"  One  hears  most  dreadful  things  of  their  doings. 
What  is  it  ?  They  hang  you  up  to  the  lamp-post  as 
soon  as  look  at  you,  don't  they  ?  And  Caroline  chose 
to  stay  and  see  it  all." 

"It  is  not  the  lamp-post,"  explained  Caroline,  "it 


168  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

is  the  chains  by  which  the  lights  are  hung  across  the 
streets.  But  I  never  saw  it,  oh  no  ! " 
"  No  wonder  !  Poor  blinded  Papists  ! " 
To  get  into  the  lady's  understanding  that  Popery 
and  the  outrages  of  the  Eevolution  were  unconnected, 
was  quite  past  any  one's  power,  and  she  ended  by 
drawing  Mrs.  Aylmer  apart,  and  advising  her  to  take 
care  that  her  niece  did  not  prove  a  firebrand  in  Down- 
ford  ;  between  her  Popish  ways  and  all  those  French 
democraws  that  had  been  infecting  her,  there  was  no 
knowing  the  mischief  she  might  do.  To  look  at  her 
was  enough ! 

At  the  early  dinner,  with  Mrs.  Darpent  present, 
there  was  enough  gossip  of  the  neighbourhood  to  keep 
tolerable  peace,  but  Mrs.  Darpent  remained  thankful 
that  she  had  no  son  at  home,  since  both  were  so 
dangerously  fond  of  Cousin  Caroline  as  to  be  easily 
misled  by  her  novelties. 


CHAPTEE  XII 

EXILED 

Ye  abbeys  and  ye  arches, 

Ye  old  cathedrals  dear, 
The  hearts  that  love  you  tremble 

And  your  enemies  have  cheer. 

Bishop  Cleveland  Coxe. 

Anxieties  could  not  but  press  upon  the  sister- 
hood of  Ste.  Lucie.  The  decree  of  the  National 
Assembly,  confiscating  all  Church  property,  left  the 
Prioress  in  doubt  how  her  daughters  could  live ;  and 
she  had  many  consultations  with  the  chaplain,  the  Abbe 
de  Pont  de  Loire,  over  the  future.  They  hoped  that 
better  times  would  come  before  a  purchaser  would 
offer  himself  for  the  convent,  but  in  the  meantime  life 
was  hard.  Their  revenues  did  not  come  in,  their  last 
pupil  had  been  recalled  by  her  relatives,  the  dowry  of 
the  nuns  was  unpaid,  and  the  chief  dependence  was 
on  Madame  de  Henisson's  payment  for  her  board,  since 
the  friendly  old  family  notary  continued  to  pay  her, 
though  he  insisted  on  her  signing  herself  Cecile 
Chenonqeau  instead  of  by  the  title  which  had  been 
abolished.  Some  of  the  nuns  were  reclaimed  by  their 
relations  and  departed.  One  or  two  wept  bitterly, 
but  some  could  not  help  betraying  pleasure  in  the 

167 


168  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

change  of  scene  and  the  prospect  of  living  with  their 
families,  but  all  vowing  to  observe  their  hours  of  de- 
votion and  return  with  better  times. 

The  Prioress  desired  her  two  youngest  sisters  to 
write  and  ask  to  be  taken  away.  Felicite,  otherwise 
Soeur  Philomene,  obeyed,  but  received  no  answer,  and 
there  was  reason  to  believe  that  the  Monfichets  had 
repaired  to  their  estate  in  Burgundy,  if  they  had  not 
actually  crossed  the  border,  as  the  Duke  and  Duchess 
of  Drelincourt  had  certainly  done. 

When  Madeleine  de  Torcy,  or  Soeur  de  Franchise 
de  Home,  received  the  same  orders,  she  clasped  her 
hands,  and  entreated  almost  in  the  words  of  Ruth, 
"Entreat  me  not  to  leave  thee,  dear  mother,  let  me 
cling  to  the  Church,  which  is  mine,  and  to  my  Heav- 
enly Spouse,  from  whom  nothing  can  divide  my  heart." 

"  But,  my  child,  it  is  for  your  good !  Think  how 
hard  we  are  all  pressed  for  very  maintenance." 

"Ah!  but  I  love  fasting  —  privation  is  angel's  meat 
to  me  —  I  need  barely  a  crust  or  a  morsel  of  chick- 
weed  ! " 

However,  the  Prioress  insisted  on  her  writing, 
though  she  looked  almost  ethereal  in  her  transparent 
beauty,  her  blue  eyes  shining  with  adoration.  She 
obeyed,  but  after  some  delay  Madame  de  Torcy  wrote 
back  word  that  the  family  were  suspected,  living  under 
surveillance,  and  that  she  thought  her  daughter  safer 
at  Ste.  Lucie,  and  prayed  her  to  attempt  no  further 
communication  at  present,  for  her  own  sake  or  her 
parents.  The  present  letter  had  been  conveyed  out 
of  the  house  at  Lyons  in  safety  by  a  private  hand. 

The  chapel  looked  piteously  empty,  the  chant  of  the 
offices  was  very  thin,  though  Soeur  Franchise's  voice 
pealed  out  with  wondrous  beauty  among  the  few  wor- 


niAi\  xii  EXILED  169 

shippers.  Only  the  little  wiry  Prioress  was  left,  with 
old  Mere  de  St.  Hilaire,  kindly  old  Mere  Marie  de 
l'Annonciation,  and  Mere  Dominique  du  Chapelet, 
who  was  paralysed  and  almost  helpless,  though  she 
was  daily  supported  into  the  chapel  by  sisters  Marie 
and  Franchise  ;  and  she  was  so  blind  and  imbecile  that 
she  never  missed  the  voices  of  the  full  choir.  The 
glorious,  ecstatic  chant  of  Soeur  Franchise  alone  pene- 
trated her  deafened  ear,  and  chimed  in  with  her  under- 
standing. 

Winter  came,  and  fuel  was  scarce.  The  poor  nuns 
huddled  together  for  warmth,  and  began  to  burn  the 
less  needful  of  their  woodwork,  Soeur  Franchise  run- 
ning backwards  and  forwards  with  loads,  and  making 
merry  little  jests,  as  she  tried  to  wield  the  axe  with 
fingers  blue  with  cold. 

"Ah!  naughty  child,"  said  the  Prioress,  " where 
should  we  be  without  you  to  keep  up  our  spirits  ?  "  as 
she  came  in  with  her  veil  full  of  chips. 

"  No  one  knows  how  sweet  is  a  little  licensed  mis- 
chief," she  cried.  "  Come  along,  Soeur  Philomene,  we 
shall  get  down  the  door  at  last,  and  make  it  serve  us 
all  the  evening !  " 

The  oath  was  at  first  not  administered  to  chaplains 
of  convents,  but  they  were  forbidden  to  admit  any  out- 
siders to  the  services,  and  when  villagers  were  caught 
repairing  to  the  chapel  they  were  beaten  and  ill-used. 
By  and  by  the  Abbe  was  denounced  for  having  min- 
istered to  a  sick  woman,  and  though  not  taken,  he 
only  appeared  now  and  then,  by  some  secret  passage. 

Worse  news  was  yet  to  come.  The  oath  to  the  con- 
stitution was  imposed  upon  the  priesthood,  and  with 
few  exceptions,  was  refused.  The  faithful  clergy  were 
proscribed,  and  those  who  were  not  arrested,  or  would 


170  THE    RELEASE  part  ii 

not  fly,  lurked  in  forests,  or  in  obscure  cottages.  One 
of  these  was  the  Abbe  de  Pont  de  Loire,  and  the  sisters 
lost  their  morning  masses,  and  were  reduced  to  their 
own  chants  at  the  "Hours,"  except  when  now  and 
then  the  chaplain  stole  in  under  cloud  of  night,  and 
departed  in  the  darkness  of  the  morning. 

"It  is  like  the  Church  of  the  Catacombs,"  cried 
Sister  Franchise,  with  her  eyes  shining  with  joyous 
enthusiasm. 

Cecile  de  Henisson  was  just  returning  from  one  of 
these  morning  rites,  when  she  was  startled  by  seeing 
a  male  figure  in  the  passage  leading  to  her  room.  In 
much  alarm  she  hesitated  for  an  instant  whether  to 
fly,  or  to  accost  him ;  but  at  once  he  spoke,  removing 
his  slouched  hat,  bowing  and  speaking  in  a  hasty 
whisper  but  with  much  courtesy,  "Pardon,  madame, 
could  you  give  me  the  favour  of  a  room  and  an  ear  to 
speak  to  you?  Madame  Aylmer,"  he  said  in  easy 
French,  though  with  an  accent,  "will  have  told  you 
of  me." 

"  Dennis  from  Ireland.     Oh  yes." 

"  Chut,  madame,  take  me  where  no  one  can  hear," 
said  Denny,  looking  round  with  scared  anxious  eyes. 

Cecile  obeyed  by  taking  him  into  her  sitting-room, 
and  there  he  ventured  to  speak.  "Madame,  the  good 
Mrs.  Aylmer  bade  me  do  all  I  could  in  case  you  needed 
any  matter  of  help,  and  I  swore  upon  my  patron's  head 
that  he  walked  with  under  his  arm  from  Montmartre 
that  I  would  never  fail  you." 

"  Yes,  yes.     What  is  the  danger  ?  " 

"  Madame,  sure  as  the  holy  Virgin  reigns  in  heaven, 
the  rogues  are  coming  this  very  night  to  sack  this 
blessed  place,  because  they  say,  the  spalpeens !  (this 
was  in  Irish)  that  'tis  no  better  than  a  nest  of  super- 


chap,  xii  EXILED  171 

stitious  aristocrats,  grown  fat  on  the  poor,  and  that 
you  opened  the  chapel  to  outside  worshippers.  They 
think  the  holy  man,  the  Abbe,  is  hidden  somewhere 
here." 

"The  monsters,  he  is  not !  " 

"  That's  neither  here  nor  there.  They  will  have  their 
will  of  the  holy  place  as  I  have  seen  —  bad  luck  to 
them  —  and  the  worse  for  those  as  are  not  safe  out  of 
their  way." 

Cecile  clasped  her  hands.  "  Oh  !  good  man,  good 
man,  what  can  we  do  ?  Has  Heaven  sent  you  to  pro- 
tect us  ?  " 

k4  Well,  my  lady,  it  is  little  the  like  of  me  can  do ; 
but  if  you,  and  maybe  two  or  three  of  the  holy 
mothers  could  be  at  the  quay  by  the  water-side  by 
twilight  I  would  take  you  off  in  my  boat,  as  I  did 
Mrs.  Aylmer,  and  the  saints  would  see  what  might 
come  next." 

There  was  no  hesitation  in  the  gratitude  with  which 
such  an  offer  was  accepted,  and  Cecile  only  asked  for 
time  in  which  to  fetch  the  Prioress,  making  Denny 
lock  the  doors  behind  her  till  she  should  return,  since 
her  maid  had  latterly  become  so  impertinent  that  it 
was  not  certain  whether  the  spirit  of  the  times  might 
not  have  infected  her. 

The  nuns  were  about  to  eat  the  scanty  breakfast  of 
dry  bread  which  Cecile  had  of  late  shared  with  them, 
and  they  had  been  waiting  for  her.  She  went  up  to 
the  Prioress,  and  with  her  hand  on  her  shoulder  en- 
treated her  to  come  with  her.  "  You  have  ill  news,  my 
daughter,"  said  the  Prioress,  looking  at  her  blanched 
face. 

"•Ill  news,  reverend  mother,  but  with  a  hope  of 
safety.     Will  you  come  with  me  ?  " 


172  THE  RELEASE  part  ii 

The  Prioress  was  a  quick,  shrewd,  practical  woman, 
by  no  means  helpless,  and  she  had  so  far  expected 
some  such  emergency  as  to  have  been  gradually  put- 
ting valuables  into  a  rapidly  portable  form ;  and  when, 
after  breathless  whispers  from  Madame  de  Henisson, 
she  stood  before  Denny,  she  looked  the  least  dismayed 
of  the  two,  as  indeed  the  offer  of  the  Irishman  came 
as  a  relief. 

Quickly  she  disposed  of  his  proposals  and  her  own 
thanks,  and  desired  to  know  how  many  he  would  have 
room  for  in  his  boat.  He  could  readily  take  four,  but 
when  he  found  that  there  were  seven  women  in  need 
of  a  rescue,  he  looked  grave.  The  flood  had  begun  to 
rush  heavily  with  the  winter  rains,  and  a  heavy  load 
might  even  swamp  the  boat.  To  take  them  at  twice 
to  a  little  shelter  by  the  river-side  would  be  possible  so 
as  to  be  out  of  the  immediate  reach  of  the  mob,  but 
how  to  go  farther  with  such  a  freight  he  knew  not. 
Could  any  of  the  good  ladies  find  some  other  asylum  ? 
They  must  take  all  the  warm  clothing  they  could,  and, 
if  there  were  means,  that  which  did  not  look  like  re- 
ligious.    Cecile  could  only  offer  all  her  wardrobe. 

Denny  hurried  away  to  make  ready  his  boat  as 
secretly  as  he  could,  and  the  Prioress  to  use  the  short 
hours  of  daylight  in  preparing  her  nuns  for  the  flight, 
while  Madame  de  Henisson  looked  out  her  stores  of 
secular  garments.  She  wept  a  good  deal  as  she  did  so, 
trembling  at  every  sound,  and  grieving  at  the  coming- 
desecration  and  desolation  of  the  house  that  had  been 
her  venerated  dwelling  for  so  many  years  of  her  life. 

One  by  one  the  nuns  came  to  her  to  be  dressed  for 
their  voyage.  Felicite  had  a  bright  face  and  eager 
eye,  as  if  the  opening  of  the  cage  was  welcome ;  and 
she  laughed  as  she  looked  at  herself  in  the  glass,  with 


chap,  xii  EXILED  17:3 

a  handkerchief  tied  over  her  cap ;  and  poor  old  Mothers 
de  St.  Hilaire,  and  de  PAnnonciation  came  hand  in 
hand,  and  crying,  "  Ah !  the  change,  the  change,  Mere 
St.  Hilaire  had  hoped  Ste.  Lucie  was  her  home  for  life, 
never,  never  to  leave  it  except  for  the  cemetery,  but 
the.Avill  of  the  Lord  be  done." 

Mere  de  PAnnonciation  murmured,  "  Ah !  it  was 
hard  to  bow  my  will,  but  I  had  done  so  perforce  once, 
and  now  —  too  late  —  too  late  —  all  that  I  loved  is 
gone.  Save  for  obedience  I  would  throw  me  down 
before  the  Altar  and  let  the  mob  work  their  will  of 
my  poor  old  withered  heart." 

But  the  Prioress  did  not  come,  nor  Sceur  Francoise, 
but  Cecile  reflected  that  the  lay  sisters  might  be  pro- 
viding for  them. 

Every  moment  was  a  terrible  one.  Ears  were 
alert  for  sounds  of  evil,  for  who  could  tell  that  the 
mob  might  not  precipitate  the  attack ;  though  Dennis 
declared  that  he  had  obtained  intelligence  that  they 
would  wait  for  certain  demagogues  from  Paris,  who 
were  attending  a  meeting  of  the  Jacobins.  A  cock 
could  not  crow  nor  a  hen  cluck  without  provoking  a 
suppressed  scream  and  cry  of  "  There  they  are !  " 

However,  each  carrying  a  tiny  bundle,  the  seven 
nuns  and  two  lay  sisters  all  assembled  at  three  o'clock 
for  the  last  time  in  their  denuded  chapel,  and  with 
shaking,  sobbing  voices  sung  their  vesper  chant,  end- 
ing with  the  "  De  Profundis."  It  was  a  dark,  cloudy 
day,  of  overcast  sky,  and  fog  rising  from  the  river,  all 
the  better  for  their  embarkation.  They  could  hardly 
see  one  another,  and  by  no  means  with  recognition  in 
their  unwonted  dresses.  Cecile,  who  was  weeping 
piteously,  only  knew  by  the  clear  young  voice  that  it 
was  Felicite  who  guided  her  steps. 


174  THE    RELEASE  part  ii 

In  thick  white  mist,  and  gathering  darkness,  she 
heard  a  lowered  voice  say,  "  Blessing  on  the  fog  the 
saints  have  sent  us !  Come,  madame,  you  are  as  safe 
as  if  you  were  in  Our  Lady's  arms."  Those  two  big 
hands  did  not  feel  exactly  like  Our  Lady's,  nor  the 
serge-clad  arms  that  lifted  her,  she  knew  not  where,  up 
and  then  down,  while  another  voice,  in  better  French, 
bade  her  sit  down  and  arrange  herself  as  well  as  she 
could.  Sitting  was  needful,  for  it  was  impossible  to 
stand  in  the  tiny  hole,  barely  illuminated  by  a  dark 
lantern.  Felicite  tumbled  down  with  more  volition, 
and  was  presently  followed  by  two  or  three  more  help- 
less bundles ;  but  immediately  after  the  voice  of  Denny 
asked  whether  they  were  all  settled.  "  Rangez  vous, 
m&res  saintes  et  reverendes,"  and  therewith  the  lantern 
was  put  out. 

They  did  not  feel  very  saintly  or  reverend,  being  in 
some  doubt  which  limbs  belonged  to  which  mother, 
and  some  one  burst  into  a  choked  peal  of  hysterical 
laughter  provoked  by  the  Irish  tone. 

The  atmosphere  was  choking,  and  though  the  vessel 
was  felt  to  be  moving  off,  it  was  very  slowly,  for  great 
precautions  were  needed  in  the  fog.  Scarcely  any- 
thing was  to  be  heard  but  the  low  splash  of  the 
muffled  oars  and  the  stifled  weeping  of  the  poor 
ladies.  Hours  seemed  to  them  to  have  passed  before 
the  voices  above  grew  louder,  and  presently  Denny 
said  from  the  opening,  "All  clear,  mesdames — mes 
saintes  dames,  I  mean.  You  can  come  up  and  stretch 
your  legs  a  bit." 

The  poor  ladies  were  so  much  cramped  that  they 
could  hardly  obey  the  welcome  summons.  Felicite 
was  the  first  to  scramble  to  her  feet  within  reach  of 
the   helping   hand,  and  she  helped  to  push  up  the 


chap,  xii  EXILED  175 

others,  till  they  all  could  see  by  the  light  of  a  nearly 
full  moon,  rising  in  the  distance,  the  one  black  mast 
before  them,  the  steersman  at  the  rudder,  the  path 
of  light  on  the  waters,  and  the  low  meadows  lying 
around.  Trees  rose  behind  them,  but  they  were  out 
of  sight  of  their  own  priory.  Denny  busied  himself 
in  finding  seats  for  them,  for  the  elder  nuns  could 
scarcely  stand  at  first.  Then  it  was  not  till  they  were 
on  deck  that  there  was  a  cry  — 

"  Where  is  the  Mother  Prioress  ?  " 

"  Where  is  Mere  Dominique  ?  " 

"  And  oh,  where  is  Soeur  Francoise  ?  " 

"  Down  below,  in  another  cabin  ?  Oh  where  ?  " 
exclaimed  Felicite. 

"  The  reverend  mothers  refused  to  come,"  said 
Denny.  "  Ah  !  I  would  have  taken  them  if  it  had 
swamped  the  Jeune  Citoyenne.  Yes,  I  would,  ma- 
dame,  but  they  would  not  come.  She's  a  fine  cap- 
tain, the  reverend  mother,  keeping  to  her  ship  to 
the  last." 

"Go  back,  put  back  and  save  them,  I  command 
you,"  cried  Mere  de  l'Annonciation.  "Not  a  step 
farther  will  I  go  without  the  reverend  mother." 

The  sailor  suppressed  a  little  laugh,  and  Mere 
de  St.  Hilaire  exclaimed,  "  Ah,  now  I  know  what  our 
dear  mother  meant  when  she  confided  you  all  to  me, 
my  sisters.  Yes,  and  put  this  blessed  reliquary  into 
my  hands,  and  the  key  !  " 

"And  she  would  not  let  me  dress  her,"  cried 
Madame  de  Henisson.  "She  said  a  cloak  would 
suffice." 

"  She  is  a  martyr,  a  willing  martyr,"  declared 
Mere  de  l'Annonciation.  "  Eh  !  and  the  poor 
child !  " 


176  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

"Weeping  and  wailing  loud  arose,"  but  "the  clam- 
orous woes  of  every  simple  nun  "  were  checked  by  a 
peremptory  sign  from  Denny,  who  proceeded  to  say, 
"  Not  so  bad  as  that,  my  good  ladies,  the  lay  sister 
had  good  hope  of  keeping  her  and  the  poor  crippled 
sister  with  the  young  one  safe  in  the  gardener's 
cottage.  That  poor  lady  could  scarcely  have  lived 
in  the  hold  there." 

"  That  is  true,"  they  could  not  but  sigh. 
"  I  would  have  stayed  with  Mere  Dominique,"  mur- 
mured Mere  de  rAnnonciation.      "  Oh,  would  that  I 
were  there ! " 

"  I  thought  the  young  sister  with  the  fair  face  was 
here,"  said  Denny.  "Nay,  that  is  the  dark  one  in 
the  white  kerchief.     Where  is  she  ?     One,  two,  three, 

four,  five " 

"  Ah  !  "  burst  out  the  lay  sister  Bonami,  "  she  thrust 
me  forward  in  her  place,  the  angel,  I  knew  not  that 
she  came  not  with  me!" 

There  was  no  help  for  it.  The  Prioress,  with  the 
helpless  Dominique,  and  the  youthful  Francoise  had 
been  left  behind,  of  their  own  free  will!  Putting- 
back  to  rescue  them  was  an  utter  impossibility.  Not 
only  was  the  convent  two  miles  behind  them  and 
against  the  stream,  but  it  was  probably  already  in  the 
possession  of  the  sans-culottes.  The  hour  was  about 
seven,  as  Denny  knew  by  the  rising  of  the  moon,  by 
the  light  of  which  he  meant  to  continue  his  course 
while  the  night  favoured  him. 

At  this  time  actual  personal  violence  to  women  was 
not  common  among  the  peasant  mobs  who  threw  them- 
selves on  the  chateaux  and  convents  in  blind  revenge 
for  past  exactions,  and  there  was  hope  that  the  nuns 
might  elude  their  assailants ;  but  all  the  fugitives  fell 


chap,  xii  EXILED  177 

on  their  knees  to  recite  their  prayers,  and  Denny 
chimed  in  with  all  his  heart  and  soul,  infinitely  invig- 
orated by  knowing  of  a  precious  relic  that  he  had  on 
board,  and  vowing  that  if  better  days  came,  La  Jeune 
Citoyenne  should  become  Ste.  Lucie. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

RECOGNITION 

She  raised  her  eyes  in  mournful  mood, 
Wilton  himself  before  her  stood, 
And  joy  unwonted  and  surprise, 
Gave  their  strange  wildness  to  his  eyes. 

Scott. 

In  undertaking  to  protect  the  escape  of  the  nuns  of 
Ste.  Lucie,  Dennis  Molony  had  a  far  more  difficult  and 
perilous  task  than  when  he  had  assisted  the  journey 
of  Mrs.  Aylmer  more  than  a  year  previously. 

The  Revolution  was  rushing  on  to  its  most  terrible 
crisis.  The  captivity  of  the  royal  family  had  begun, 
and  the  fear  of  interference  on  their  behalf  from  for- 
eign sovereigns  and  from  emigrant  nobility  impelled 
the  people  to  madness,  lest  all  that  had  been  gained 
should  be  rent  from  them  by  force  of  arms.  Every 
one  who  endeavoured  to  leave  the  country,  however 
helpless  and  innocent,  wras  supposed  to  be  a  traitor, 
and  excited  furious  distrust;  and  the  oppressions 
which,  unfortunately,  religious  houses  had  exercised 
in  some  cases,  together  with  the  refusal  of  the  clergy 
to  accept  the  oath  to  the  constitution,  and  the  general 
reaction  against  all  authority,  spiritual  as  well  as  tem- 
poral, had  made  all  ecclesiastical  personages  especially 
obnoxious,    and    those   who    assisted    them    scarcely 

178 


chap,  xiti  RECOGNITION  179 

less  so.  Besides  this,  Caroline  Aylmer  was  a  hardy 
personage,  experienced  in  vicissitudes  of  land  and 
water  travelling,  and  able  to  take  care  of  herself  and 
give  hardly  any  extra  trouble ;  whereas  of  these  poor 
things,  even  Madame  de  Henisson  had  never  walked 
except  in  well-appointed  gardens,  Felicite  de  Mon- 
fichet  had  never  gone  beyond  a  few  woodland  paths 
with  her  governess,  or  the  village  green  on  a  fete  day, 
and  as  to  the  two  nuns,  Mere  de  l'Annonciation's  ex- 
periences were  of  salons  thirty-five  years  previously, 
and  Mere  St.  Hilaire  had  only  spent  a  single  year  out- 
side the  convent  since  she  left  her  foster-parent's  cot- 
tage at  five  years  old.  Sister  Bonami  was  a  village 
girl,  and  could  go  out  bravely  enough. 

"  Blessings  on  them,"  Denny  muttered  to  his  mate, 
"  it  is  like  having  to  do  for  a  set  of  tame  pigs  that 
have  been  petted  up  in  a  hovel,  turned  loose  among 
the  wild  sangliers  that  roamed  the  forest  before  the 
peasant  folk  set  upon  them,  that  are  the  boars  them- 
selves, bad  luck  to  them  ! " 

His  mate  was  a  Norman  smuggler  whom  he  had 
known  long  enough  to  rely  upon,  and  who  had  been 
employed  before  in  transporting  fugitives  across  the 
Channel.  The  Gabelle  had  made  many  a  man  of  worth 
a  smuggler,  and  Jaques  le  Boux  was  no  exception; 
but  he  agreed  with  Denny  that  he  should  much  prefer 
a  cargo  of  obstreperous  pigs  to  these  meek  and  mourn- 
ful ladies.  They  sat,  shivered,  and  sighed  as  they  told 
their  chaplets  on  deck,  or  heaped  themselves  up  below 
without  a  word  of  complaint.  They  never  seemed  to 
be  hungry,  and  accepted  all  varieties  of  distresses  as 
divine  favours ;  and  yet  it  was  almost  impossible  to 
know  how  to  deal  with  them.  If  he  wanted  them  to 
lie  hid  in  a  reed  bed  while  he  went  to  get  them  food, 


ISO  THE   RELEASE  paet  ii 

and  to  walk  across  a  bend  of  the  stream  to  meet  Jaques 
and  the  boat  beyond  the  wiry  revolutionary  barri&re 
that  lay  in  the  loop,  he  found  them  so  utterly  unused 
to  walking  and  so  ill  shod  that  he  could  hardly  get 
them  over  paths  meant  for  heavy  sabots,  instead  of 
delicate  slippers.  Poor  things,  their  feet  were  cut 
and  bruised  even  to  bleeding,  and  their  terrors  were 
perpetual.  Not  a  fish  could  leap,  not  a  duck  flap  her 
wings,  not  a  frog  croak,  without  eliciting  a  suppressed 
scream,  and  making  them  grasp  one  another,  or  almost 
fall  upon  him  or  upon  Soeur  Bonami,  whose  arms  must 
have  been  black  and  blue  from  the  pinches  they  gave 
her.  Mere  St.  Hilaire  and  Felicite  were  the  boldest, 
and  kept  up  the  others,  for  Madame  de  Henisson  was 
the  most  timid,  and  Mere  de  l'Annonciation  was  so 
much  exhausted  at  the  end  of  the  first  mile  that  she 
begged  to  be  left  to  her  fate.  Felicite  and  Soeur 
Bonami  dragged  her  on  almost  by  force,  for  she  re- 
jected with  a  cry  of  horror  the  assistance  of  "  ce  gros 
matelot"  as  she  called  him ;  it  would  have  been  pro- 
fane, and  contrary  to  her  vows,  and  then  she  began  to 
apologise  lest  she  should  have  hurt  his  feelings. 

After  endless  disasters,  and  much  more  delay  than 
was  advisable,  and  having  seen  no  one  more  dangerous 
than  a  little  girl  leading  out  a  cow  to  browse  on  the 
banks,  they  arrived  by  daylight,  all  drenched  with 
early  dews,  and  with  the  remnants  of  shoes  scarce 
holding  to  their  feet,  at  good  Dame  Manon's,  where 
Denny  had  decided  on  hiding  his  charge  for  the  day- 
light hours  while  he  reconnoitred  Kouen.  Dame 
Manon  was  as  faithful  a  Catholic  as  himself,  and  as 
ready  to  think  it  an  honour  and  a  blessing  to  receive 
persecuted  nuns.  She  stood  at  her  door  with  hands 
clasped,  and  a  torrent  of   exclamations    of   pity  and 


chap,  xin  RECOGNITION  181 

horror  as  they  tottered  and  limped  forward.  She 
drew  them  into  the  hovel,  and  garrulously  mourned 
that  she  had  nothing  better  to  set  before  them  than 
the  contents  ofherpo*  au  feu.  Then  as  she  saw  the 
bleeding,  blistered  feet,  her  exclamations  redoubled. 
"  Ah,"  said  Mere  St.  Hilaire  quaintly,  as  she  held  up 
her  foot,  "  I  never  half  understood  the  merits  of  the 
sisters  Discacees" 

"Ah!  but  the  merits  are  even  greater  when  you 
are  suffering  through  wicked  men ! "  said  the  good 
hostess,  who  Avas  making  ready  quickly  to  heat  some 
water  to  wash  the  poor  feet.  What  next  was  to  be 
done  ?  Sabots  must  be  procured,  but  the  purchase  of 
five  pairs  in  the  village  a  mile  off  would  excite  suspi- 
cion. The  Prioress  had  thrust  on  Mere  St.  Hilaire  a 
bag  which  was  found  to  contain  plenty  of  money,  so 
that  there  was  no  difficulty  on  that  score,  and  it  was 
decided  that  pairs  of  sabots  should  be  bought  by 
Manon,  Denny,  and  Soeur  Bonami  in  different  shops, 
in  the  course  of  the  day. 

Denny  could  reach  Kouen  far  more  promptly  on 
foot  than  in  his  loaded  barge,  and  the  nuns  were 
helped  up  to  the  hayloft  over  the  cottage,  where  they 
might  be  safely  out  of  the  way  of  possible  incursions 
of  the  neighbours.  It  was  close,  but  not  warm ;  how- 
ever, the  good  ladies  were  glad  to  lie  there  at  rest, 
while  Soeur  Bonami,  who  had  easily  become  a  thorough 
peasant  woman  in  appearance,  could  go  on  errands 
and  assist  Manon.  Felicite  would  fain  have  done  the 
same.  The  liberty  she  had  regained,  such  as  it  was, 
seemed  to  make  her  feet  tingle  to  be  on  the  move; 
and  she  sat  by  the  slit  between  the  planks  of  the  frail 
door,  drinking  in  the  charm  of  the  open  meadow,  the 
stubble  field,  the  gliding  river   and.  the    ducks    that 


182  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

sailed  upon  it.  After  years  of  convent  walls  the 
sight  was  delightful  to  her,  though  the  wide  space 
made  the  elder  nuns  feel  themselves  utterly  desolate 
and  forlorn,  as  if  they  were  out  in  the  cold.  Towards 
evening  the  sabots  were  all  brought  in  triumphantly, 
but  when  the  poor  ladies  tried  them  on  there  was  a 
new  difficulty,  for  they  hurt  the  bruised  and  tender 
feet  as  much  or  more  than  did  the  stones  and  stubble 
fields.  However,  when  once  embarked  again,  they 
would  not  need  to  wear  them  for  some  time ;  and 
Denny  had  arranged  that  there  should  be  shelter  for 
the  next  day  at  a  sort  of  boat-house  near  his  own  cot- 
tage, and  that  they  should  pass  through  Rouen  at 
night,  when  a  friend  of  his,  who  had  often  winked  at 
his  contraband  loads,  would  be  in  charge  of  the  office 
that  observed  the  passage  through  the  wharves.  In 
those  anxious  times  of  emigration  and  relaxed,  uncer- 
tain law,  the  merciful,  as  well  as  the  interested,  often 
shut  their  eyes. 

So,  plunging  through  the  mire  and  swamps  of  the 
reed  beds,  with  many  a  little  suppressed  shriek,  the 
fugitives  re-embarked,  and  floated  down  the  river, 
resting  as  best  they  could  on  deck,  or  in  the  tiny  pre- 
cincts of  the  hold  which  the  elder  nuns  preferred  as 
being  less  cold.  There  they  lay,  all  that  night,  and 
when  they  halted  the  next  day,  under  the  loosely 
thatched  roof  of  reeds,  they  were  visited  by  Denny's 
trim  little  kindly  French  wife,  who  brought  them 
milk  and  apples,  and  kneeling  before  Mere  St.  Hilaire 
asked  her  blessing. 

Another  day  of  close  concealment,  and  then  they 
came  to  Kouen;  but  Felicite  was  only  allowed  a 
glimpse  at  the  steeples  rising  up  in  the  dark  before  she 
was  peremptorily  bidden  to  seek  the  hold,  where  she 


chap,  xin  RECOGNITION  183 

sat  as  near  the  opening  as  she  could  and  gasped  for 
breath  in  the  stifling  atmosphere. 

She  heard  loud  voices,  as  the  barge  ceased  to  move. 
Then  there  was  a  laugh. 

"  Furniture  from  an  old  convent,  is  it  ?  Oh,  I  will 
take  your  word,  Denny  !  I  need  not  search !  No  peril- 
ous articles,  eh  ?  " 

Those  were  the  most  distinct  voices  that  she  caught 
as  there  she  sat  crouched  together,  with  a  sense  that 
there  was  no  solitude  around,  and  an  occasional  flash 
of  light  as  the  Jeune  Citoyenne  slowly  moved  on  and 
on ;  and  at  last,  after  she  had  once  or  twice  stiffly 
fallen  asleep  and  wakened,  cramped,  aching,  and  long- 
ing to  stretch  herself,  upon  some  little  movement  of 
the  kind,  Denny's  head  was  put  over  the  opening,  and 
his  voice  whispered,  "The  reverend  mothers  might 
come  up  if  they  are  awake." 

Felicite  communicated  the  intelligence,  but  the 
reverend  mothers  were  much  too  chilly  to  think  of 
profiting  by  it ;  and  when  she  tried  to  stand  up  she 
found  her  limbs  hardly  able  to  move,  and  would  have 
fallen  but  for  the  hand  that  was  held  out  to  her,  and 
which  pulled  her  up,  almost  by  main  strength,  for  she 
almost  sank  upon  the  deck  before  she  could  reach  her 
seat  upon  a  coil  of  rope.  The  tardy  dawn  was  begin- 
ning, paling  the  eastern  sky,  and  whitening  the  banks 
of  fog.  The  morning  star  was  shining  on  the  horizon. 
She  had  never  seen  it,  and  it  brought  the  recollection 
of  Henri  Beaudesert's  explanations  about  the  planets, 
and  why  the  evening  star  could  also  be  the  harbinger 
of  the  sun.  She  had  thrown  back  her  muffling  ker- 
chief, so  as  to  breathe  better  and  enjoy  the  spectacle ; 
but  she  started  on  perceiving  that  the  mate  was  stand- 
ing near  looking  at  her,  and  the  lantern  was  shining 


184  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

on  his  face.  No  ;  was  it  the  mate  ?  It  was  certainly 
his  dark-bine  garments  and  red  fisher  cap,  bnt  whose 
face  was  that  ?  Was  imagination  playing  her  a  trick  ? 
She  shut  her  eyes.  The  face  was  turned  away  to 
attend  to  the  rudder,  but  the  figure,  the  gesture,  was 
the  same,  though  the  gentleman's  garb  had  been 
exchanged  for  the  sailor's.  She  was  shocked  at  her 
own  momentary  idea,  showing  herself  false  to  her 
vows,  and  a  burning  blush  spread  over  her  face.  She 
lifted  her  hand  to  draw  her  kerchief  forward ;  but 
in  that  instant  the  look  had  returned,  and  on  either 
side  there  was  recognition,  a  momentary  ecstasy, 
though  he  never  stirred  from  the  heavy  beam  which 
formed  the  helm,  and  she  hid  blushes  and  wonder 
behind  her  hands.  Though  each  had  had  such  an 
effect  on  the  life  of  the  other,  yet  in  point  of  fact  they 
had  neither  of  them  ever  spoken  a  word  of  direct  love, 
and  it  was  more  than  three  years  since  their  separa- 
tion. The  one  exclamation,  "  Mademoiselle  ! "  broke 
from  Beaudesert.  She  answered  with  a  kind  of  shud- 
der, caused  by,  as  she  would  have  called  it,  un  serre- 
ment  de  coewr;  but  nothing  more  was  uttered,  for 
Denny  was  helping  Sister  Bonami  out  of  the  cabin, 
and  for  a  professed  nun  to  converse  with  a  stranger 
man  was  an  impossible  idea,  all  the  more  so  as  honour 
bound  them  to  their  rules  when  beyond  their  cloister 
and  the  supervision  of  their  Prioress.  However,  in 
spite  of  all  perplexities  and  scruples,  Felicite  could 
not  help  having  an  undefined  sense  of  protection  and 
well-being,  as  from  behind  the  sail  she  looked  across 
at  the  firm,  well-knit  figure  and  bright,  dark  eyes  of 
the  helmsman. 

It  was  Madame  de  Henisson  who,  on  coming  on  deck 
when  the  sun  was  first  on  the  horizon,  remarked  — 


chap,  xtii  RECOGNITION  185 

"  You  have  a  new  assistant,  Maitre  Denis." 

"Truly,  madame  is  right.  If  I  may  confide  it  to 
her,  he  is  a  gentleman  under  the  same  need  of  a  for- 
eign tour,  a  bit  of  a  trip  to  England,  as  herself,  so  I 
let  him  come  with  me  as  my  mate,  and  let  him  take  a 
hand  at  the  steering  when  I  saw  that  he  knew  the 
river  and  the  ropes." 

Madame  de  Henisson,  being  a  free  woman,  unbound 
by  any  vows,  followed  her  instinct  of  courteous  sym- 
pathy, and  bows  were  exchanged  with  the  stranger; 
but  in  the  midst  she  exclaimed,  "  Pardon  me,  monsieur, 
I  have  met  you  before,  though  I  do  not  recognise  you 
at  once." 

"At  Monsieur  le  Comte  de  Monfichet's,  madame," 
he  replied,  with  another  bow,  "  where  I  had  the  honour 
to  act  as  tutor." 

"Ah  ! "  she  exclaimed,  with  a  little  scream  of  dismay, 
as  she  recollected  all  the  passages  that  had  served  to 
bring  Soeur  Philomene  here  as  a  nun;  but  recalling 
herself,  she  resolved  to  try  to  ascertain  whether  he 
had  come  with  any  vain  revolutionary  scheme  of  re- 
capturing the  lady  of  his  affections.  "I  thought  you 
were  in  America,  sir,"  she  said,  coldly;  but  Felicite 
was  sitting  near,  with  her  face  turned  to  the  river, 
and  it  was  to  her  listening  ears  that  he  spoke. 

"It  is  true,  madame,  that  I  was  there  for  a  time, 
and  I  had  the  good  fortune  to  discover  a  vein  of  tin 
ore.  It  was  decided  to  send  me  to  England  to  obtain 
Cornish  miners  to  pursue  the  discovery,  and  at  the 
same  time  I  was  to  proceed  to  France  to  see  my  friends 
and  realise  the  property  to  which  I  am  entitled.  I 
found,  however,  much  confusion  as  to  inheritances. 
I  learnt  that  the  refusal  of  the  clergy  to  take  the 
oaths  had  led  to  much  violence  towards  convents.     I 


186  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

made  anxious  inquiries  of  the  bargemen,  who  I  knew 
supplied  the  convents  on  the  river,  and  perhaps  im- 
prudently, for  I  was  warned  that  I  was  about  to  be 
denounced  as  an  emigrant.  Going  down  to  the  wharf 
to  arrange  for  escaping  in  one  of  the  barges  of  these 
good  fellows,  I  encountered  Maitre  Denis,  who  under- 
took to  substitute  me  for  his  mate,  provided  I  could 
assist  in  the  escape  of  certain  ladies  from  Ste.  Lucie. 
Imagine,  madame,  what  was  my  joy  !  " 

"  And  you  will  take  care  of  us,  monsieur,"  exclaimed 
Cecile,  too  much  relieved  to  find  herself  with  a  male 
protector  of  something  like  her  own  rank  and  culti- 
vation to  be  able  to  dwell  on  the  intricacies  and  com- 
plications of  the  escort. 

"I  would  give  my  life,  madame,  rather  than  that 
any  harm  should  touch  you  or  any  of  your  compan- 
ions." 

Felicite  drank  in  the  assurance,  and  the  tender 
trembling  of  voice  with  which  the  last  sentence  was 
pronounced.  She  too  felt  safe ;  and  though  she  was 
soon  ordered  down  to  lie  close  while  passing  Elbceuf, 
it  was  with  a  heart  throbbing  with  delight.  Madame 
de  Henisson,  gentle  as  she  was,  was  a  woman  of  the 
world,  and  she  squeezed  Felicite's  hand,  saying,  "  We 
will  not  mention  names,  my  friend,  it  might  distress 
our  good  mothers,  and  they  might  think  there  was  a 
scandal,  though  all  was  accident  and  we  must  have 
his  protection.  I  shall  only  tell  them  that  I  had  known 
him  before." 

Felicite  was  content  to  have  it  so.  She  had  too  con- 
fused and  agitated  a  heart  to  endure  that  her  conduct 
should  be  watched  by  Meres  de  St.  Hilaire  and  de 
1' Annonciation ;  but  she  could  not  help  being  amused 
when  she  heard  madame" s   communication  being  re- 


chap,  xni  RECOGNITION  187 

ceived  by  the  two  old  ladies  curled  up  in  the  hold, 
with  inquiries  whether  she  was  sure  that  their  new 
friend  was  "bon  Catholique"  to  which  she  returned  an 
unhesitating  assurance.  The  Prioress  had  been  a  very 
careful  woman,  and  neither  of  them  had  been  aware 
of  the  name  of  Sceur  Philomene's  lover,  so  that  Beau- 
desert's  presence  was  not  a  disclosure  to  them.  In- 
deed, Madame  cle  Henisson  was  a  determined  chaperon. 
She  impressed  on  Beaudesert  from  the  first  that  it  was 
due  to  the  reputation  of  Mademoiselle  de  Monfichet 
that  nothing  should  give  colour  to  any  report  that  she 
had  eloped  under  his  care.  As  to  the  future,  when  the 
journey  was  over,  and  they  could  have  recourse  to  ad- 
visers —  the  countess  waved  her  hands,  she  could  give 
no  opinion ;  but  for  the  present  nothing  must  give  um- 
brage to  Mere  St.  Hilaire. 

He  submitted,  he  could  not  help  it;  and  so  did 
Felicite',  all  the  more  readily  that  she  was  dreadfully 
ashamed  of  her  own  bliss,  and  sense  of  liberty  and 
hope.  Sometimes  she  felt  guilty  and  like  a  recreant, 
and  was  ready  to  hide  her  face  for  ever ;  at  others  she 
was  comforted  by  recollecting  Mrs.  Aylmer's  assurance 
that  prayer  would  be  answered  either  by  content  or 
by  freedom.  So  contending  feelings  absolutely  made 
her  shrink  from  Henri  Beaudesert,  and  had  he  not 
been  able  to  recollect  that  first  glance  and  blush,  his 
spirits  and  hopes  would  have  sunk  still  lower  than 
they  did,  as  the  tardy  barge  moved  down  the  widening 
river. 

Havre  was  not  all  that  it  became  under  Napoleon, 
and  in  the  later  times  of  commerce,  entente  cordiale 
and  travelling ;  but  it  was  a  recognised  harbour,  and 
Denny  thought  it  safer  not  to  enter  it,  since  there 
always  might   be   officials   on  the  watch  to  prevent 


188  THE   KELEASE  part  11 

emigration.  He  succeeded  in  obtaining  the  use  of  a 
rough  country  cart,  which  had  often  been  employed 
in  the  transport  of  contraband  goods,  and  in  this  the 
nuns  and  Madame  de  Henisson  were  packed.  They 
were  at  a  loss  to  decide  which  was  worse,  this  or 
walking  in  sabots.  Felicite  decided  in  favour  of  the 
wooden  shoes,  and  trudged  along  by  the  side  of  the 
lay  sisters,  invigorated  by  the  sight  of  the  figure  who 
was  leading  the  donkey  which  drew  the  sisters. 

They  reached  the  haven  at  last,  a  rude  little  fishing- 
village  where,  however,  the  church  had  not  been  dis- 
turbed, and  was  full  of  votive  offerings  of  little  ships 
and  anchors,  and  queer  paintings  of  wrecks,  out  of  all 
perspective.  There  the  people  still  prayed,  and  their 
priest  not  being  " assermente"  lurked  in  hiding  — 
sometimes  in  a  smuggler's  cave  among  barrels  of  salt, 
sometimes  in  one  cottage,  sometimes  in  another,  or  in 
the  woods  and  cattle-sheds,  coining  from  time  to  time 
in  early  morning  to  give  them  a  mass.  Here  the  nuns 
were  sheltered  and  honoured,  and  could  worship  un- 
molested, while  Denny  and  Beaudesert  hovered  about 
making  arrangements  for  their  transport  in  a  smug- 
gling vessel. 

Sceur  Bonami,  having  taken  no  vows,  and  being  well 
able  to  earn  her  own  living,  decided  on  remaining 
where  she  was.  She  could  not  bear  the  sight  of  the 
sea,  to  which  the  dear  mothers  were  about  to  com- 
mit themselves.  And  it  must  be  confessed  that  they 
often  envied  her  and  longed  to  be  with  her,  before  La 
Bonne  Margot  put  into  the  harbour  of  Wareham. 


CHAPTER   XIV 

DISCIPLINE     VERSUS  CHIVALRY 

Must  I  be  better  than  the  rest, 
And  harbour  justice  in  nry  breast. 

Gay. 

A  rubber  of  whist  was  in  full  progress  at  Mrs. 
Aylmer's.  Card-parties  in  rotation  took  place  at  the 
houses  of  the  society  of  the  town,  always  for  sixpenny 
points,  and  the  rector,  the  doctor,  old  Mrs.  Aylmer,  and 
Mistress  Penelope  Swan,  were  all  absorbed  round 
one  green  baize  table,  while  "  young  madam,"  as  Mrs. 
George  Aylmer  was  commonly  termed,  the  doctor's 
son,  the  rector's  pupil,  two  old  maids,  and  the  widow 
of  the  last  rector  made  up  a  round  game,  much  more 
merry  than  that  of  their  elders,  though  in  a  hushed 
way.  Though  it  was  high  summer,  the  candles  were 
lighted  in  the  tall  silver  candlesticks  that  Captain 
Aylmer  had  taken  in  a  Spanish  vessel.  They  were 
very  tall,  and  perhaps  had  been  altar  lights ;  but  the 
ladies  had  no  such  suspicion,  and  used  them  quite 
innocently. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  rattle  of  wheels  outside.  The 
round-game  players  looked  up. 

"  That  sounds  like  a  coach !  "  said  the  widow. 

"  Like  the  mail,"  said  the  pupil.     "  It  is  its  time." 

"  It  never  stops  here." 

189 


190  THE    RELEASE  part  u 

"  It  is  stopping  !  " 

"  Are  you  expecting  any  one  ?  " 

"  Oh !  if  it  should  be  the  captain !  "  cried  Caroline, 
jumping  up  and  clasping  her  hands,  upsetting  a  whole 
deal  of  cards ;  thus  first  disturbing  the  whist  players, 
one  of  whom,  as  in  a  dream,  murmured  a  reproof  to 
the  young  people  for  making  so  much  noise.  Caroline 
had  flown  to  the  door,  when  it  was  opened  by  Bond, 
the  one-legged  old  sailor  butler.  "  Young  madam," 
quoth  he,  "  here  is  an  out-of-the-way  crew  asking  for 
you.     Shall  I  have  'em  in  ?  " 

"  News  of  the  captain  ?  Oh  !  "  she  cried,  as  at  the 
same  moment  there  advanced  upon  her  four  black- 
robed,  black-veiled  figures ;  and  she  had  a  glimpse  of 
Denny  in  the  background  before  she  was  enfolded  in 
the  embrace  of  Madame  de  Henisson,  who  threw  her- 
self upon  her,  sobbing,  "  Ah !  my  cousin,  at  last." 

Cecile  habitually  dressed  as  a  widow,  and  no  sooner 
had  the  nuns  set  foot  on  English  ground  than  they 
had  resumed  their  hoods  and  veils,  so  that  their  aspect 
was  sufficiently  startling  to  a  sober-minded  English 
card-party,  whose  French,  if  it  existed  at  all,  had  long 
been  in  abeyance.  The  pupil,  indeed,  was  at  first  in- 
clined to  suspect  a  masquerade,  and  communicated  his 
opinion  to  the  doctor's  son ;  but  a  word  or  two  from 
Cecile  had  assured  Caroline  that  they  were  refugees 
from  Ste.  Lucie,  fleeing  from  the  mob,  who  after  suf- 
ferings affreuses  had  ventured  to  make  their  way  to 
her,  their  dear  friend. 

Caroline  knew  their  faces,  and  was  specially  glad 
to  recognise  Felicite ;  and  a  few  words  from  her  ex- 
plained the  situation,  as  far  as  she  knew  it.  Pity  for 
French  emigrants  was  strong  in  the  nation  at  the 
time,  and  a  murmur  of  "  poor  creatures  "  went  round, 


chap,  xiv     DISCIPLINE    VERSUS  CHIVALRY  191 

as  the  worn,  haggard  features  were  partially  disclosed. 
Only  the  pupil  murmured,  "  What  old  witches  !  "  and 
the  doctor's  son  answered,  "  The  young  one  is  passable 
enough,"  while  the  most  romantic  of  the  old  maids 
felt  a  sense  of  bathos  at  the  wrinkled  old  yellow 
faces  of  the  two  elderly  nuns,  Mere  St.  Hilaire's  still 
so  shrewd  and  French  in  spite  of  exhaustion.  She 
had  hardly  explained  something  about  the  dreadful 
voyage,  and  the  diligence,  when  Bond  opened  a  chink 
of  the  door,  and  signalled  to  young  madam  to  come 
and  speak  to  him,  looking  so  peremptory  that  she 
could  not  but  obey;  but  happily  catching  sight  of 
Zelie,  she  sent  her  in  to  help  the  strangers  and  serve 
as  an  interpreter. 

"  Ma'am,  I've  got  him !  I'd  swear  to  him,  for  all 
his  French  toggery.  He  is  Molony,  the  filthy  great 
Irishman  what  deserted  from  the  Tiger  in  Swanage 
Bay  —  has  the  impudence  to  show  his  ugly  face  here 
again.  But  I  have  locked  him  into  the  servants'  hall 
for  the  present ;  and  come  to  know  whether  it's  your 
pleasure  that  I  go  for  Dick  Brown  the  constable  to- 
night, or  keep  him  here  till  morning,  when  Dick  is 
more  like  to  be  sober.  He  can't  be  at  none  of  his 
tricks  there,  ma'am." 

"  Dennis  Molony !  Why,  Bond,  he  was  my  best 
friend  in  getting  away  from  France !  Depend  upon 
it,  he  only  ventured  here  to  take  care  of  these  poor 
ladies,  who  have  been  driven  away  by  those  horrid 
Jacobins.  I  would  not  have  a  hair  of  his  head 
touched,  the  generous  fellow." 

"  All  very  fine,  ma'am,  as  generous  as  you  please, 
but  that  doesn't  hinder  him  from  being  a  deserter  and 
a  traitor  to  his  flag,"  grimly  returned  Bond. 

"  I  tell  you,  Bond,  I  will  not   have  him   touched," 


192  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

she  said  with  a  stamp  of  her  foot.  "No,  nor  my 
husband,  the  captain,  would  not  either.  I  am  going 
to  see  him.  Have  you  given  him  anything  to  eat  ? 
No !  Then  go  and  fetch  some  bread  and  meat  and  a 
mug  of  ale  directly." 

The  man-of-war's-man  went  off  muttering,  "a  de- 
serter, a  deserter  for  all  that." 

Caroline  could  waste  no  more  time  on  Bond  nor 
any  one  else.  She  darted  into  the  hall  to  see  his  pris- 
oner. "  Oh,  Denny,  how  well  you  have  done  !  You 
have  brought  my  poor  dear  friends  all  safe  ! " 

"  And  it  was  time,  ma'am,  when  the  murdering  folk 
at  Paris  were  coming  out  to  make  an  end  of  the  holy 
place,  just  like  black  Cromwell's  men.  So  I  brought 
them  down  in  my  boat  —  all  that  would  come — for 
the  Lady  Prioress  gave  us  the  slip,  and  so  did  that 
pretty-faced  young  one,  having  a  turn  for  being  a 
martyr,  no  doubt." 

"  Oh !  you  have  done  a  great  deal,  Denny ;  but  it  is 
not  safe  for  you  to  be  here  !  " 

"  Well,  ma'am,  I  could  not  let  the  poor  ladies  come 
all  alone  by  the  stage,  not  knowing  a  word  of  the 
English  tongue,  and  all  of  them  kilt  with  the  sickness 
at  sea,  and  nothing  to  steer  by  but  a  bit  of  a  scrap  of 
paper  with  your  address  on  it.  I  could  not  but  see  them 
in  harbour,  and  if  I  swing  for  it,  it  is  a  holy  work." 

"  You  shall  not  do  that,  dear  good  Denny,  but  I  am 
afraid  Bond  knows  you." 

"  The  boatswain  aboard  the  Tiger,  and  no  better 
than  a  tiger  he  was  himself  on  the  rough  side  of  him." 

"  I  have  said  all  I  can  to  him.  He  is  a  good  old 
fellow,  but  he  has  terrible  notions  of  discipline  and 
faithfulness  to  his  flag,  and  I  don't  know  what  he 
may  think  his  duty.     So  as  soon  as  you  have  rested 


chap,  xiv     DISCIPLINE    VEBSUS  CHIVALRY  193 

and  had  some   food,  I  think  it  would  be  wiser  not  to 
stay." 

"  Never  you  fear,  dear  lady,  it's  not  the  first  time 
I  have  made  fools  of  a  gauger  or  a  man-of-war' s- 
man." 

"  Bond  is  busy  enough  now,"  as  the  cook  came  in 
with  some  cold  meat  and  bread,  her  eyes  extended 
with  dread  of  that  awful  person,  a  smuggler  who  had 
turned  Frenchman. 

Promising  to  return,  Caroline  went  where  she  was 
almost  equally  needed,  to  the  parlour,  where  such 
ladies  as  had  a  smattering  of  boarding-school  French 
were  trying  to  understand  Felicite,  who  had  an  equal 
amount  of  English ;  and  Zelie  was  standing  by  Mrs. 
Aylmer,  and  translating  her  offers  of  refreshment  as 
Bond  set  down  on  the  table  the  dainty  little  supper 
prepared  for  the  card-party  —  all  in  a  nest  of  dishes 
fitting  into  a  hexagon  shape. 

The  most  Protestant  of  the  old  maids  had  departed 
with  the  rector  to  escort  her;  the  most  patriotic 
stayed  behind,  vainly  trying  to  understand  Madame 
de  Henisson. 

Mrs.  Aylmer  was  doing  the  honours  with  her  best 
endeavours,  but  utterly  confused  by  the  polite  bows 
and  thanks  of  her  unexpected  guests,  as  well  as  by 
Zelie's  interpretations. 

"The  holy  mothers  thank  madam e,  but  they  will 
have  no  chick  —  it  is  jour  maigre  —  meagre  day  — 
madame." 

West  Indian  French  done  into  broken  English  was 
not  very  explicable,  and  Caroline  found  the  meagre 
day  a  strange  puzzle  to  her  mother-in-law. 

"  Do  persuade  the  poor  lady  to  pick  a  bit  of  friar's 
chicken,  or  here's  a  nice  veal  cutlet.     I  am  sure  they 


194  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

want  something  to  support  them.     Meagre,  why  they 
are  quite  lean." 

"Jour  maigre  —  it  is  a  fast-clay.  But  you  need  not 
fear,  dear  mother,"  she  added  in  French,  "friar's 
chicken  is  without  any  meat.  You  can  safely  eat  it ; 
but,  indeed,  it  is  rest  more  than  food  that  they  want." 
She  added  in  English,  "  May  I  send  Molly  to  prepare 
the  blue  and  the  red  rooms  for  them  ?  " 

"Poor  things,  they  must  stay  here.  And  one  is 
your  cousin?" 

"  Yes,  Madame  de  Henisson  —  let  me  present  you," 
said  Caroline,  remembering  due  forms.  "Ma  belle 
Mere  Cecile;"  then,  "These  are  my  dear  old  mis- 
tresses, Mere  de  St.  Hilaire,  Mere  Marie  de  l'Annon- 
ciation,  my  dear  friend,  Soeur  Philomene." 

There  was  a  general  curtseying  all  round,  and  a 
little  more  ease  —  especially  as  Mistress  Penelope  and 
the  other  visitors  felt  that  their  curiosity  must  wait, 
and  took  leave,  to  burst  out  in  wonder  and  commisera- 
tion outside  the  front  door. 

The  house  was  really  Captain  Aylmer's  own,  there- 
fore his  wife's;  but  his  mother  had  always  acted  as 
hostess  and  housekeeper,  and  thus  the  arrival  and 
bestowal  of  all  this  unexpected  party  of  Caroline's 
friends  was  rather  a  delicate  matter.  If  it  had  been 
only  her  cousin,  it  would  have  been  easy  to  arrange ; 
but  the  sudden  arrival  of  three  professed  nuns  might 
well  be  a  difficulty  between  the  two  ladies,  and  it  was 
well  that  the  elder  had  more  hospitality  and  delicacy 
than  Caroline  would  have  met  with  from  her  aunt. 

The  newcomers  were  disposed  of  in  two  adjoining 
bedrooms,  with  Zelie  waiting  on  them.  Caroline 
promised  her  cousin  to  come  to  them  again,  and  was 
running   down  to   see   after   Denny,   when   she   was 


chap,  xiv    DISCIPLINE  VERSUS  CHIVALRY  195 

impeded  on  her  way  by  screams  from  Eustace  and 
Nancy,  who,  awakened  by  the  unwonted  movements 
in  the  house,  had  ventured  out  in  their  little  night- 
dresses and  bare  feet,  pit-a-pat,  pit-a-pat,  looking  like 
little  ghosts  themselves,  and  catching  a  sight  of  the 
black  hoods  thought  all  their  worst  terrors  realised, 
and  vied  with  one  another  in  shrieks. 

Mother  and  grandmother  met,  and  each  caught  up 
one  little  mortal.  "  Oh !  my  dear  darling  boy,  they 
won't  hurt,  they  are  dear  good  ladies  on  a  journey." 

"  Dear  Nancy,  hush ;  no,  they  shan't  hurt  her !  Bad 
people  have  driven  them  away.  Oh,  Carry !  what 
shall  we  do  ?  " 

"We  must  try  to  help  them.  Yes,  yes,  dear  boy  — 
all  right.  Mamma  loves  them  so  much.  Shouldn't 
you  like  to  see  them  and  kiss  them  ?  " 

"  No  —  no  —  no  —  ugly  —  old  —  black " 

"  So  you  said  about  Zelie !  You  love  her  now. 
That's  my  brave  boy." 

Which  he  was  not,  for  he  was  infected  by  his 
grandmother's  consternation;  but  his  mother  was 
determined  to  conquer  the  terrors,  and  the  grand- 
mother, though  fearing  that  the  boy  would  be  fright- 
ened into  convulsions,  held  her  peace,  while  Caroline 
carried  him  to  the  room  —  where  Cecile  and  Felicite 
were  both  divested  of  their  head-gear  —  and  as  they 
flew  at  him  with  "  Le  petit  ange ! "  he  understood  the 
smiles  and  tones,  though  not  the  words,  and  let  him- 
self be  kissed. 

"  Yes  !  you  are  a  brave  sailor  boy  to  take  care  of 
them,"  said  his  mother.  "  Make  your  salute  and  tell 
them  so." 

Felicite  could  interpret  the  lisped  assurance,  and 
pretty  gesture,  and  there  was  a  fresh  transport. 


106  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

"  Well,  Caroline,  I  could  not  have  done  that !  "  said 
Mrs.  Aylmer,  when  the  children  were  safe  in  their 
cribs,  patted  off  to  sleep. 

"  The  boy  must  learn  to  be  brave." 

"  But  tell  me,  tell  me,  Carry,  what  are  we  to  do 
with  these  ladies  ?  Will  they  stay  long  with  us,  and 
board  with  us,  and  do  they  always  wear  those  dreadful 
hoods  ?  " 

"My  dear  madam,  I  cannot  tell  yet.  I  have  not 
heard  half  their  story,  and  I  must  go  and  see  after 
that  good  man,  their  escort  and  mine,  or  Bond  will 
arrest  him  for  a  deserter  !  If  you  would  go  —  be  so 
kind  as  to  go  —  and  forbid  Bond." 

"  In  my  house  !  No,  that  would  never  be,"  exclaimed 
the  old  lady,  fully  sensible  of  all  the  claims  of  hospi- 
tality ;  and  off  she  set  to  mitigate  Bond's  zeal  for  the 
British  flag,  by  persuading  him  of  the  rights  of  their 
voluntary  guest.  He  certainly  would  have  found  none 
of  the  women  of  the  house  on  his  side,  for  Caroline 
found  the  cook,  who  had  braved  him  so  unwillingly,  and 
the  housemaid,  sitting  by  perfectly  entranced  by  his 
manners,  conversation,  and  the  story  of  the  rescue  of 
the  ladies.  The  housemaid  begged  to  make  up  a  bed 
for  him.  "  She  was  sure  he  deserved  everything  they 
could  do  for  the  friend  of  the  distressed,"  and  the 
cook  chimed  in  with  an  emphatic,  "  To  hear  him  talk 
was  as  good  as  the  players  in  the  barn,  and  all  true 
besides !  " 

Nevertheless,  it  was  far  safer  for  the  chivalrous 
deserter  to  be  out  of  reach,  and  so  Caroline  was  obliged 
to  tell  him  most  unwillingly. 

"  The  saints'  blessing  be  on  you,  madam,  but  never 
take  it  to  heart.  Sure  and  it  is  nothing  but  the  luck 
of   an  honest  free-trader,   and  what  I've  had  to  do 


cttap.  xiv     DISCIPLINE    VERSUS  CHIVALRY  197 

night  by  night,  over  and  over  again.  A  hedge-side 
or  the  lee  of  a  hay-stack  is  as  good  as  I'd  look  for  on 
land,  nine  nights  ont  of  the  week ;  and  now  the  holy 
mothers  is  brought  into  port,  I  have  the  prayers  of 
them,  blessings  on  them,  and  one  of  them,  Mother  St. 
Hilary,  she  give  me  this  medal,  which  has  been  blessed 
by  the  Pope,  and  is  not  that  enough  to  keep  a  man's 
heart  warm  ?  " 

And  more  than  content  with  that  reward,  the  Irish- 
man disappeared  into  the  night;  and  Mrs.  Aylmer  did 
not  envy  Bond,  exposed  to  the  tongues  of  the  women, 
though  he  heeded  them  little,  "wrapped  in  his  own 
integrity,"  and  thinking  of  his  own  two  ladies  as  no 
better  than  the  rest.  A  ship  was  the  only  she  among 
them  all  that  knew  what  discipline  meant. 

Repairing  to  her  cousin's  room,  Caroline  found  that 
Sceur  Philomene  had  been  called  to  join  the  two 
elder  nuns  in  their  compline  devotions,  but  Madame 
de  Henisson  was  still  in  the  outer  room,  waiting  for 
her.     Might  she  veiller  with  her  ? 

Caroline  thought  sleep  would  be  better  than  watch- 
ing for  Cecile,  but  she  longed  to  hear  her  adventures, 
and  took  her  to  her  room,  where  the  children  were  by 
this  time  fast  asleep.  There,  installed  in  a  low  nurs- 
ery chair,  Cecile  told  of  the  alarm,  and  the  flight,  with 
the  disappearance  of  the  Prioress,  and  of  Sceur  Fran- 
chise, then  of  the  miseries  of  the  journey,  though 
mitigated  by  the  devotion  of  good  Denny.  "  But  oh, 
my  dear  Caroline,  such  a  frightful  thing  has  happened. 
We  were  joined  by  that  Beaudesert !  " 

"  Beaudesert !  What,  the  lover  ?  I  thought  he 
was  in  America." 

"  He  came  home  on  his  affairs !  So  he  said,  but  I 
believe  myself  he  was  drawn  by  the  notion  of  danger 


198  THE   KELEASE  part  ii 

to  the  convents.  However,  to  do  him  justice,  he  was 
denounced  and  reduced  to  fly,  when  he  joined  us  at 
Kouen;  and  judge  of  my  dismay  when  I  recognised 
him  and  thought  of  the  scandal." 

"Alas!  there  are  few  that  care  about  the  scandal 
in  these  days!  But  Fe — Soeur  Philomene,  did  she 
know  that  he  was  there  ?  " 

"I  am  sorry  to  say  I  fear  she  did,  though  I  kept 
too  good  watch  over  them  to  allow  them  to  speak  to 
one  another." 

"  Poor  things  ! "  Caroline  could  not  help  ex- 
claiming. 

"  Ah,  you  are  a  Protestant !  and  she  had  quite  con- 
quered all  the  past  folly,  and  resigned  herself  to 
her  life,  as  if  she  had  a  vocation  originally,  so  that 
it  is  a  thousand  pities  that  all  should  be  freshly 
stirred." 

"  What  has  become  of  him  ?     Is  he  here  ?  " 

"  Here  !  My  dear  Caroline,  could  you  suppose  that 
I  should  have  allowed  him  to  come  here,  though  I 
own  that  his  whole  conduct  was  irreproachable,  and 
the  care  he  took  of  us  all,  the  mothers  and  myself, 
was  perfect !  I  shall  never  forget  it,  but  I  could  not 
let  him  come  on  with  us !  Imagine  the  scandal  and 
impropriety ! " 

"  Did  the  mothers  know  ?  " 

"  Only  that  I  had  met  him  in  the  world.  I  would 
not  let  them  know  of  the  former  relations  between 
the  young  people :  it  would  have  shocked  them  too 
much.  They  were  absolutely  charmed  with  his  at- 
tentions." 

"  And  where  is  he  ?  " 

"  What  do  I  know  ?  Gone  to  London,  I  believe,  or 
wherever  he  meant  to  look  for  miners,"  and  Cecile 


chap,  xiv     DISCIPLINE    VEBSUS  CHIVALRY  199 

waved  her  hands  to  show  that  she  had  done  with 
him. 

"Poor  fellow,"  sighed  Caroline,  "and  now,  Ce'cile, 
we  must  lie  down  and  sleep." 

"  Ah !  it  is  the  first  bed  I  have  slept  on  for  fifteen 
days." 


CHAPTER   XV 


STRANGE    GUESTS 


Come,  pensive  Nun,  devout  and  pure, 
Sober,  steadfast,  and  demure. 

Milton. 

Caroline  Aylmer's  first  morning  hours  were  spent 
in  obtaining  that  Zelie  should  compound  and  carry  to 
each  of  her  guests  a  cup  of  coffee  and  a  slice  of  bread, 
as  much  according  to  French  taste  as  could  be  con- 
trived, and  therewith  she  used  all  her  persuasions  to 
keep  them  in  bed;  and  as  they  had  by  no  means 
recovered  from  the  manifold  distresses  and  sufferings 
of  the  voyage  and  journey,  all  obeyed  her  gladly  except 
Felicite,  who  insisted  on  getting  up  and  waiting  on 
the  rest. 

Then  came  the  breakfast  with  her  mother-in-law, 
who  was  almost  as  much  disturbed  by  this  strange 
invasion  as  the  visitors  themselves  could  be,  though 
she  was  thoroughly  kind  and  hospitable,  but  "  How  did 
they  come,  and  what  was  to  be  done  with  them  ?  " 

Caroline  was  now  able  to  explain  their  history, 
which  drew  tears  from  the  kind  old  lady.  "  Driven 
out  with  violence,  and  destitute,  from  the  home  of 
their  life,  and  that  after  all  had  been  sent  away  who 
had   the  semblance  of   a   home  within  reach !     Poor 

200 


chap,  xr  STRANGE    GUESTS  201 

things !  Oh,  they  must  stay  for  the  present,  till  we 
see  what  can  be  done.  They  shall  have  every  kind- 
ness, I  am  sure  they  ought !  But  will  they  sit  in  the 
parlour  and  be  like  company  ?  " 

"I do  not  think  the  nuns  themselves  would  wish  it, 
grandmamma,  They  will  be  quite  as  happy  as  we 
can  make  them  if  we  give  them  up  a  couple  of  rooms 
upstairs,  where  they  can  live  as  if  they  were  in  their 
convent ;  Ce'cile,  my  cousin  —  Madame  de  Henisson  — 
may  like  to  be  with  us.  At  any  rate,  I  must  make 
her  the  offer." 

"  Oh  yes,  by  all  means,  she  is  your  cousin ;  but  my 
dear  Caroline,  do  you  think  George,  your  husband, 
will  approve  of  our  taking  all  this  expense  ?  " 

"  Oh,  he  will  not  grudge  it !  Besides  Cecile  will  get 
remittances  from  Guadaloupe,  and  all  mine  I  am  sure 
will  go  to  help.  Zelie  will  wait  on  them.  They  shall 
be  no  trouble  to  you." 

"  Well,  my  dear,  I  am  sure  that  it  is  right  to  do 
what  we  can  for  the  poor  ladies.  They  are  quite  wel- 
come, but  oh  dear !  I  wish  George  was  at  home.  I 
wish  they  were  not  Catholics.  And  what  will  your 
aunt  say  ?  " 

"  Oh,  never  mind  my  aunt.  It  was  she  who  sent  me 
to  them,  so  she  has  no  right  to  object." 

"Well,  I  wish  they  were  not  Catholics,"  repeated 
Mrs.  Aylmer. 

To  wish  that  nuns  were  not  Eoman  Catholics  was 
beyond  Caroline,  so  she  could  only  answer  that  they 
were  very  good  women,  and  she  could  answer  for  it 
that  they  would  give  no  offence.  She  heartily  re- 
echoed the  wish  that  her  husband  were  at  home,  but 
alas !  there  was  no  chance  of  that  for  at  least  three 
years  to  come,  and  she  could  only  thank  her  mother- 


202  THE    RELEASE  tart  ii 

in-law  for  her  kindness  in  the  matter,  to  which  Mrs. 
Aylmer  responded  that  her  heart  bled  for  the  poor 
ladies,  and  any  one  was  welcome  who  was  driven  away 
by  these  dreadful  French  people. 

Then  came  down  the  children,  plainly  forgetting 
the  night's  alarm,  or  else  confounding  it  with  evening 
recurring  terrors,  which,  with  the  curious  reticence  of 
childhood,  were  never  to  be  mentioned  to  grown-up 
ears.  However,  they  retained  for  a  long  time  a  terror 
of  the  door  where  the  "  black  hoods  "  lived,  and  for 
months  were  not  quite  convinced  that  plots  for  burn- 
ing them,  or  blowing  them  up,  might  not  be  hatched 
behind  it.  In  fact  perhaps  their  nurse  and  the  house- 
maid, by  mysterious  whisperings  over  their  cribs,  con- 
duced to  the  impression. 

Caroline  looked  in  on  her  guests,  and  assured  them 
of  their  welcome,  then  was  a  little  mortified  that  all, 
except  Cecile,  seemed  to  take  it  as  a  matter  of  course, 
and  to  have  no  notion  that  an  importation  of  four 
might  be  a  serious  thing  in  a  quiet  English  household 
—  and  Cecile  might  have  means.  She  wrote  to  the 
notary  at  Paris,  though  it  was  quite  probable  that 
means  from  thence  might  be  obstructed  (as  in  truth 
they  were),  since  she  was  an  emigrant,  but  there  were 
hopes  from  her  brother-in-law,  from  whom  Caroline 
had  actually  received  a  small  remittance  direct  from 
Ste.  Marie  Galante.  The  nuns  were  to  be  served  up- 
stairs, but  Madame  de  Henisson  undertook  to  get  up 
and  come  down  to  the  dinner  which  was  to  be  at  three 
o'clock. 

Caroline  had  to  go  out,  with  a  commission  from  the 
elder  lady  to  do  some  marketing.  "  You  know  what 
sort  of  green  stuff  the  ladies  will  like.  They  don't 
eat  anything  else,  do  they  ?  " 


chap,  xv  STRANGE   GUESTS  203 

She  took  her  basket  on  her  arm,  and  went  forth,  but 
just  beyond  their  fronting  row  of  limes,  cut  in  arches, 
she  saw  a  figure  unmistakably  French  in  the  general 
aspect,  and  still  more  so  in  the  graceful  bow  with  which 
his  cocked  hat  was  taken  off  and  nourished  to  the 
ground  as  he  spoke  in  foreign  English,  "  Have  I  the 
honour  of  addressing  Mistress  Aylmer  ?  " 

She  curtseyed  again,  with  an  instant  conviction, 
which  was  strengthened  by  his  next  words,  "  May  I 
ask  whether  the  ladies  of  Ste.  Lucie  have  arrived 
safely  under  madame's  roof?" 

"  Yes  —  oh  yes,"  she  exclaimed,  unconsciously 
speaking  French,  "they  are  safely  here.  You  are 
Monsieur  Beaudesert  ?  Then  you  have  not  met 
Denny  ?  " 

"  No,  madame,  that  heart  of  gold  went  his  own  way. 
The  lady  would  not  hear  of  my  escorting  them,  and  in 
truth  there  was  no  room  upon  the  diligence ;  but  I  could 
not  but  make  my  way  hither  to  know  whether  they 
had  been  safely  received,  and  that  your  goodness  had 
sheltered  them." 

"  They  are  quite  well,  and  safe,  and  I  hope  will  soon 
be  recovered,"  said  Caroline,  in  some  doubt  how  she 
ought  to  answer,  or  what  was  to  come  next ;  but  her 
heart  was  drawn  towards  the  young  man,  with  his 
attractive,  clever,  though  not  handsome  face,  his  cour- 
teous French  manner,  and  the  eager  gestures  which 
he  could  hardly  restrain. 

"  Madame  knows  me  —  my  history,"  said  he.  "  Ah! 
I  see  she  does  !  She  is  my  —  our  friend.  May  I  ask 
if  I  could  see  Mademoiselle  de  Monfichet  ?  " 

"Did  she  know  that  you  accompanied  her,  mon- 
sieur?" said  Caroline,  considering. 

"  One  glance,  like  a  beam  from  heaven,  was  granted 


204  THE    RELEASE  part  ii 

to  me  j  but  she  held  aloof  from  me,  I  know  not  whether 
she  has  forgotten  me." 

"That  she  has  not/'  burst  from  the  imprudent 
woman. 

"  Ah !  madame  has  been  the  guardian  angel  of  the 
situation.  It  is  from  her  and  her  narration  that  my 
relations  at  Rouen  knew  that  her  vows  were  never 
really  made.  It  was  that  which  inspired  new  hope, 
or  I  would  never  have  returned  from  America." 

"  I  cannot  tell  how  far  she  thinks  them  binding," 
returned  Mrs.  Aylmer.  "Tell  me,  monsieur,  what 
did  you  think  of  doing?" 

"  If  I  could  win  her  consent,  all  would  be  clear.  I 
would  make  her  my  wife  and  take  her  to  Louisiana, 
where  our  own  religion  is  practised,  and  yet  no  one 
would  know  that  she  had  been  a  professed  religious. 
Truly  professed  she  is  not." 

"Not  in  heart.  Scarcely  by  the  lips,  and  under 
protest." 

"  Then,  madame,  you  will  grant  me  to  speak  with 
her!  This  is  a  land  where  there  is  true  liberty.  Re- 
member I  have  travelled  in  company  with  her  for  eight 
days  —  never  spoken  to  her  —  only  once  seen  that  face 
so  beloved." 

"  You  shall !  you  shall !  "  cried  Caroline  impul- 
sively, bringing  him  back  to  the  house,  where  she 
shut  him  into  the  dining  parlour,  and,  without  a 
thought  of  scruples  or  difficulties,  ran  up  to  the 
nuns'  rooms,  and  called  "  Felicite  —  Sceur  Philomene 
—  come,  I  want  you." 

Felicite,  without  her  veil,  her  dark  short  hair  in 
waves  all  uncovered,  was  helping  the  sisters  to  dress ; 
but  she  obeyed  the  summons  without  hesitation,  except 
a  "Mais  —  mais,  madame"  as  her  hostess  held  her  by 


chap,  xv  STRANGE   GUESTS  205 

the  hand  and  took  her  down  stairs.  In  another  second, 
Henri  Beaudesert  was  before  her,  holding  out  both 
hands,  and  advancing  on  her  in  ecstatic  joy.  She 
retreated  in  alarm  on  Caroline,  who  would  have  left 
them  together,  as  naturally  as  if  they  had  been  Eng- 
lish lovers;  but  Felicite  in  dismay  and  shame  cried, 
"Oh  no!  no!  don't  leave  me,"  holding  both  hands 
over  her  face,  unveiled  after  the  three  years'  habit. 
Perhaps  her  first  sense  was  of  a  treason  in  her  friend. 
She  scarcely  even  saw,  as  Beaudesert  threw  himself 
on  his  knees  before  her,  and  cried,  "  Oh  lady,  most  be- 
loved, grant  me  a  sight  of  that  face,  you,  whom  I  have 
adored  for  years  !     You  are  free  at  last." 

"  Oh  no,  no.  It  is  sacrilege  !  Go  away.  Oh  !  take 
me  away,  madame." 

She  Avas  close  to  the  door,  but  Caroline  set  her 
back  against  it  to  prevent  an  escape.  "  No,  Felicite," 
she  said,  "  you  ought  to  hear  him.  Eemember  what 
he  has  risked  for  you.  Eemember  all  you  have  said 
to  me  of  your  doubts  if  yours  were  a  valid  profession, 
and  yoiiY  longings  to  escape." 

This  was  said  as  much  for  his  sake  as  for  hers, 
but  she  faintly  said,  "  Ah !  I  had  given  all  those  pro- 
fane desires  up,  sinner  that  I  am.  Awaken  them  not 
again." 

"Ah!  you  cannot,  cannot  deny  that  you  felt  them."' 
"  It  was  a  sin !  I  thought  I  had  killed  them." 
"You  had  not.  They  were  no  sin,  since  in  your 
heart  —  nay,  by  lips  and  pen  —  you  protested  against 
the  cruel  profession.  You  are  not  bound."  She  had 
let  him  grasp  her  hand,  and  see  her  1  (lushing  face,  and 
he  proceeded,  "There  is  nothing  —  nothing  to  hinder 
you  from  being  made  mine,  and  coming  with  me  to 
those  new  lands  where  there  is  liberty." 


206  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

"  No  !  no  !  "  she  cried  in  horror,  withdrawing  her 
hand.     "  Let  me  go,  madame,  I  ought  not  to  listen." 

"Nay,  listen  once.  There  is  a  Catholic  chapel  at 
that  old  house  half-way  here.  It  was  pointed  out  to 
me." 

"I  know  it,"  said  Caroline,  "a  French  priest  is 
there." 

"  He  would  wed  us,  in  your  own  name,  dear  sweet 
lady  mine.  He  need  know  nothing  of  the  cruelly 
imposed  title." 

Felicite  had  rallied  a  little  after  the  first  shock. 
"No!"  she  said.  "Hear  me,  monsieur.  It  is  true 
that  the  semblance  of  a  vow  was  forced  from  my 
weakness,  and  that  my  heart  revolted  against  what- 
ever was  put  into  my  lips.  I  was  no  willing  hand- 
maid of  the  Lord,  who  saw  my  heart.  But  I  had 
tried  to  bend  my  will  and  do  His  service,  as  a  reluc- 
tant slave  might  do,  and  I  do  not  know  what  right  I 
have  to  draw  back  now.  Certainly,  and  you,  an  up- 
right Englishwoman,  madame,  agree  with  me,  it  would 
be  most  unfair  to  ask  a  priest  to  give  the  nuptial  bene- 
diction without  knowing  that  I  am  a  religious,  out- 
wardly at  least  professed." 

"  She  is  quite  right,"  said  Caroline.  "  It  would  be 
very  wrong  towards  the  priest." 

"The  ladies  must  forgive  a  miserable  half-mad- 
dened," cried  Beaudesert.  "  Alas  !  what  is  to  be 
done !  Must  we  remain  thus  torn  apart  for  ever  by 
cruel  tyranny  and  religious  scruples  ?  Might  not  we 
be  married  by  one  of  your  Protestant  clergy  who 
would  ask  no  questions  ?  " 

"  That  would  not  be  the  benediction  of  our  only  true 
Mother.  We  may  not  be  traitors  to  her,"  said  Felicite. 
"No,  there  are  Catholic  Bishops  in  this  country,  both 


chap,  xv  STRANGE   GUESTS  207 

English  and  French.  If  monsieur  could  bring  me 
the  opinion  of  one  that  my  vows,  such  as  they  were, 
are   not    binding,   and  that  I   can  be  absolved    from 

them,  then  I   shall   not  fear  to   transgress    in " 

Her  voice  faded  away,  but  in  a  transport,  Beaudesert 
mastered  her  hand,  kissed  it,  and  declared,  "  Such 
assurance  you  shall  have,  if  I  go  through  fire  and 
water  for  it ! " 

Felicite,  frightened  at  a  passion  such  as  she  had 
never  witnessed  before,  loosed  her  hand  with  some 
vehemence  and  darted  out  of  the  room,  nearly  upsetting 
in  her  flight  old  Mrs.  Aylmer,  who  was  leisurely  pro- 
ceeding on  her  way,  and  stood  amazed  to  see  another 
French  refugee,  evidently  in  a  state  of  much  emotion, 
in  conversation  with  her  daughter-in-law. 

"Monsieur  Beaudesert,  grandmamma,"  said  Caro- 
line. "He  kindly  looked  in  to  assure  himself  that 
our  guests  are  safe.     I  think  I  have  told  you  of  him." 

Mrs.  Aylmer  made  her  best  curtesy,  but  looked  be- 
wildered, dreading  perhaps  a  fifth  destitute  claimant 
of  hospitality. 

Beaudesert  perhaps  guessed,  for  he  said  in  his  best 
English,  "  I  go  on  to  meet  the  coach  of  which  I  have 
been  told.  I  go  to  London  on  affairs.  I  will  do  my- 
self the  honour  to  write  to  madanie." 

"Pray  do  so,  and  if  there  is  occasion  to  write  to 
you  about  —  these  ladies  —  where  shall  I  direct?" 

His  answer  was  ready  —  to  the  care  of  an  American 
banker  in  London;  and  then  with  much  politeness,  he 
bowed  himself  out. 

"Well,"  said  the  mother-in-law,  "I  am  thankful 
that  he,  at  least,  has  a  banker ;  not  that  I  grudge  any- 
thing to  these  poor  destitute  ladies  !  But  what  is  this 
about  that  young  nun  ?     I  met  Felicite  rushing  to  the 


208  THE    RELEASE  part  ii 

stairs  like  a  mad  thing,  though  she  did  stop  and  say 
'  Pardon,  madame.' " 

"  Felicite  !  Oh,  grandmamma,  do  you  not  recollect  ? 
I  told  you  about  my  seeing  her  professed,  and  how 
she  fainted  and  never  quite  spoke  the  vow." 

"  Poor  girl !  Yes  I  remember.  And  do  you  mean 
that  that  was  the  young  man  she  was  in  love  with  ? 
Dear  me  !     But  they  can  be  married  now." 

"  Dear  grandmamma,  I  hope  it  may  come  about,  but 
there  is  a  good  deal  to  come  first.  You  know  she  is 
really  reckoned  as  a  professed  nun." 

"But  they  might  turn  Protestants,  and  a  blessed 
thing  too." 

"  I  don't  think  they  would,"  said  Caroline,  almost 
smiling,  "  they  are  a  long  way  from  thinking  us  right, 
and  you  would  be  the  last  person  to  wish  them  to  act 
against  their  conscience." 

"Why  yes,  certainly,  but  if  we  could  convert  them. 
Perhaps  the  good  doctor  could." 

Caroline,  who  had  been  obliged  to  know  a  good  deal 
more  than  her  mother-in-law  did  of  the  gulf  between 
the  tenets  of  the  two  Churches,  could  not  entertain 
any  warm  expectations  of  the  kind,  and  was  thankful 
to  recollect  her  marketing. 


CHAPTER   XVI 

NUNS    ABROAD 

The  Paip,  that  Pagan  full  o'  pride, 
Hath  blinded  us  fu'  long. 

—  Ballad. 

The  two  Mistresses  Aylmer  did  not  find  their  hos- 
pitality to  the  nnns  of  Ste.  Lucie  led  much  to  their 
ease  and  comfort,  and  the  younger  certainly  had  the 
worst  of  it,  for  she  had  the  misgivings  of  every  one  to 
hear,  as  well  as  displeasure  at  times  from  the  nuns 
and  Madame  de  Henisson. 

They  were  far  too  well-bred  ladies  to  utter  a  word 
as  to  their  accommodation,  but  they  were  dreadfully 
distressed  and  angry  when  they  discovered  that  Soeur 
Philomene  had  been  allowed  to  see  a  gentleman  — 
nay,  one  who  had  been  her  lover.  Poor  Cecil  e  dis- 
closed the  fact  unawares,  and  then  found  that  it  had 
almost  destroyed  their  confidence  in  Caroline.  "  But, 
que  voulez-vous?     She  is  a  heretic !  " 

"  And  no  Catholic  could  be  more  good  and  kind  to 
us,"  said  Mere  de  l'Annonciation. 

"Though  she  might  have  known  better  than  to 
cause  such  a  scandal !  "  added  Mere  St.  Hilaire. 

Accordingly  they  insisted  on  Felicite  doing  severe 
penance  by  the  repetition  of  Penitential  Psalms  upon 
her  knees.  She  submitted,  for  she  knew  that,  as  they 
*•  209 


210  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

said,  she  could  have  refused  all  answer,  and  in  many 
moods  the  bounding  hopes  within  her  heart  seemed 
sinful  and  profane.  Nor  would  they  let  her  speak  to 
Mrs.  Aylmer,  nor  go  into  the  garden,  till  Madame  de 
Henisson,  alarmed  by  her  looks,  declared  that  they 
were  ruining  her  health,  and  that  the  crime  would  be 
on  their  souls,  for  they  were  immuring  her  more  than 
ever  had  been  done  at  Ste.  Lucie.  Mrs.  Aylmer  under- 
took that  the  coast  should  be  clear  when  the  poor  girl 
was  out  of  doors  in  the  high-walled  garden. 

"Though,"  as  Mr.  Darpent  said,  laughing,  "I  am 
much  tempted  to  act  Peeping  Tom  of  Coventry ! " 

For  the  good  ladies,  unaware  of  the  perplexities  that 
they  were  bringing  on  their  generous  hostess,  had  gone 
to  the  utmost  of  their  powers  in  making  their  abode 
as  like  a  convent  as  possible. 

Their  apartment  consisted  of  two  rooms  and  a  pow- 
dering closet ;  for  Madame  de  Henisson  had  been  placed 
in  a  chamber  of  her  own,  in  the  secular  side  of  the 
house,  where  she  lived,  as  she  was  quite  willing  to  do, 
as  the  guest  of  her  cousin. 

The  windows  of  these  rooms  looked  out  on  the 
street,  or  rather  on  the  tops  of  the  lime-trees,  and 
therefore  they  were  closed  entirely,  with  the  shutters 
admitting  only  a  little  light  at  the  top.  The  dressing- 
closet  was  towards  the  garden,  but  did  not  fare  better, 
for  the  sisters  converted  it  into  a  temporary  chapel. 
They  took  the  curtains  down  from  their  beds  and 
made  hangings  of  them  for  the  windows  and  the  walls ; 
and  they  contrived  a  sort  of  temporary  altar,  over 
which  was  arranged,  on  a  raised  cushion,  a  little  brass 
crucifix,  which  Mere  de  St.  Hilaire  had  brought  round 
her  neck,  and  at  the  sides  a  tiny  reliquary,  and  likewise 
a  very  small  china  image  of  the  Blessed  Virgin.     Each 


chap,  xvi  NUNS   ABROAD  211 

of  the  three  sisters  and  Cecile  had  had  a  sacred  "  ob- 
ject" committed  to  her  charge,  and  these  were  now 
put  together  on  the  little  draped  table,  before  which 
it  was  the  effort  of  the  sisters  to  keep  up  continual 
orisons  for  not  only  their  exiled  selves,  but  interces- 
sions for  that  miserable  country  of  theirs  which 
seemed  for  the  time  to  be  the  sport  of  demons;  also 
for  their  own  scattered  sisters,  for  their  chaplain,  for 
their  families,  and,  above  all,  for  their  King,  his  wife, 
and  children. 

But  that  poor  little  chapel  was  the  cause  of  much 
consternation.  True,  no  servant  but  Zelie  was  ever 
lawfully  admitted  there,  but  peeping  could  be  accom- 
plished, and  reports  spread  all  over  the  town  that  the 
Papists  were  always  worshipping  their  images  there. 

Even  Mrs.  Aylmer  had  her  doubts  whether  it  was 
right  to  permit  such  doings  under  her  son's  roof,  for 
to  her  old-fashioned  Calvinist  training  it  seemed  like 
encouraging  idol  worship,  and  she  consulted  the  rector 
whether  she  ought  to  suffer  it.  Happily  he  was  a  man 
with  more  instruction  and  some  largeness  of  mind ;  and 
though  he  could  not  make  her  understand  the  distinc- 
tions of  worship,  she  accepted  his  dictum  that  it  would 
be  cruel  to  interfere  with  the  religious  habits  of  her 
unfortunate  inmates,  and  that  she  might  be  satisfied 
that  they  believed  the  same  creed  and  worshipped 
God  like  herself.  But  when  she  proposed  to  him  to 
try  to  convert  them  he  only  laughed,  and  told  her 
to  let  them  alone.  It  was,  he  said,  an  excellent  and 
charitable  deed  to  shelter  such  poor  fugitives,  and  it 
ought  not  to  be  spoilt  by  persecution. 

He  was  thus  satisfied,  and  Mrs.  Aylmer  had  her 
answer  to  those  who  blamed  her  and  imagined  by 
force  of  scandal  any  amount  of  malpractices  behind 


212  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

those  blinds.  Mrs.  Darpent  was  most  especially  irate. 
Gossip  had  swelled  on  tongue  after  tongue  by  the 
time  it  came  out  to  Walwyn,  and  the  upshot  of  it  was 
that  she  sailed  into  her  husband's  study  in  wrath,  and 
insisted  on  his  coming  with  her  to  put  a  stop  to  her 
niece  Ay  liner's  Popish  practices. 

"I  hear  that  they  have  a  whole  nunnery  in  their 
house,  all  in  black  hoods,  and  that  old  Sukey  Shrimper, 
up  from  the  Creek,  has  orders  to  call  every  Friday  !  " 

"  Good  for  Sukey,"  quietly  observed  Mr.  Darpent. 

"  You  are  in  one  of  your  vexatious  moods,  Mr.  Dar- 
pent. I  tell  you  that  Rhoades,  the  butcher,  does  not 
send  in  one  pound  of  meat  more  than  he  did  before 
this  lot  came  down  on  them.  It  is  high  time  some 
one  interfered.  In  her  husband's  absence,  too,  letting 
those  Popish  locusts  sponge  her  out  of  house  and 
home." 

"  By  your  own  account  that  is  just  what  they  are 
not  doing." 

"  Oh,  depend  upon  it  they  knew  what  they  are 
about,  when  they  came  down  all  of  a  sudden,  and 
with  a  notorious  smuggler  —  yes,  and  a  smart  young 
gentleman,  if  you  please,  with  them  —  and  invaded 
the  house.  Poor  old  Mrs.  Aylmer  had  no  choice  ex- 
cept to  let  them  in,  though  the  poor  children  are 
frightened  out  of*  their  wits,  and  there  they  creep 
about  the  house  afraid  of  their  lives  for  the  black 
hoods ;  while  those  nuns  set  up  all  their  Popish  prac- 
tices, and  they  have  got  an  altar  and  two  or  three 
images  set  up  as  large  as  life,  and  there  they  are  say- 
ing mass  all  day  long.  AYhat  are  you  laughing  at, 
Mr.  Darpent  ?  " 

"At  the  nuns  saying  mass,  my  dear.  Don't  you 
know  that  only  a  priest  can  do  that  ?  " 


chap,  xvi  NUNS    ABROAD  213 

"Then  you  may  depend  upon  it  one  of  them  is  a 
priest  in  disguise,  and  it  is  your  duty  to  look  into  it, 
Mr.  Darpent,  or  some  day  Captain  Aylmer  may  come 
over  to  find  his  wife  and  children  turned  into  bloody- 
minded  Papists.  I  tell  you  it  is  your  bounden  duty 
to  go  and  see  what  your  niece  is  doing,  instead  of  sit- 
ting grinning  there  enough  to  make  a  cat  sick." 

"  I  grin,  as  you  politely  express  it,  to  think  who  it 
was  who  induced  me,  nay,  compelled  me  to  place  my 
niece  under  the  charge  of  these  same  wicked  nuns." 

"There  you  go.  I  only  said  that  her  aunt  ought 
to  share  the  charge  of  the  girl.  I  never  told  you  to 
put  her  in  a  convent." 

"  Though  you  were  aware  that  such  was  the  usual 
style  of  education." 

"Come,  Mr.  Darpent,  you  know  I  only  said  the  girl 
was  their  niece  as  much  as  yours,  and  it  was  their 
duty  to  do  something  for  her.  The  question  is,  are 
you  coming  over  with  me  to  see  what  is  to  be  done 
to  put  a  stop  to  these  Popish  ways  ?  I  have  ordered 
the  coach  to  be  round  at  eleven  o'clock,  so  you  had 
better  take  off  your  dressing-gown  and  put  on  jTour 
wig." 

Air.  Darpent  as  usual  teased  his  wife,  but  meekly 
complied  in  the  end,  and  besides  he  had  a  real  curi- 
osity to  know  the  foundation  of  all  these  dreadful 
rumours.  So,  in  due  time,  the  family  coach,  to  be  more 
dignified  and  impressive,  lumbered  up  to  the  door  be- 
hind the  lime-trees  at  Downford,  and  presently  they 
were  ushered  into  the  parlour,  where  they  found  a 
bright-looking  lady  in  mourning  sitting  at  her  em- 
broidery-frame, and  little  Nancy  standing  by  her  hold- 
ing a  skein  of  rose-coloured  silk,  while  her  mother 
was   apparently  busied  on  more  homely  needlework. 


214  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

Caroline's  French  breeding  was  equal  to  the  occa- 
sion. She  rose  and  greeted  with  curtsey  and  embrace 
her  uncle  and  aunt,  explaining  with  three  words  to 
Cecile  who  they  were,  and  adding  in  English  to  them, 
"  My  cousin,  the  Countess  of  Henisson.  I  think  you 
saw  her  as  a  little  girl,  Uncle  Darpent,  when  you  took 
me  to  France  to  the  care  of  my  aunt  ?  " 

There  was  a  little  premeditation  in  this  speech,  for 
the  sense  of  her  obligations  would  tell  upon  her  aunt's 
courtesy,  and  due  genuflections  were  exchanged  on 
either  side,  Madame  de  Henisson  dexterously  reliev- 
ing Nancy's  hands  of  the  skein,  and  suggesting  some- 
thing about  belle  reverence,  after  which  Caroline  sent 
the  child  away  to  find  her  grandmother.  Her  boy,  as 
she  explained,  being  delicate,  still  took  a  mid-day  sleep. 

Mr.  Darpent's  French  was  not  so  far  to  seek  but 
that  he  could  make  his  civilities  to  the  stranger  lady, 
and  understand  her  when  he  had  drawn  her  into  an 
account  of  the  terrible  alarm  at  Ste.  Lucie,  of  the 
escape  and  the  miserable  journey,  as  well  of  her 
exceeding  gratitude  to  her  good  cousin,  and  that  clear 
"Mistriss  Aylmer"  —  all  given  with  gestures  of  hands 
and  play  of  countenance  that  exasperated  Mrs.  Dar- 
pent, because  she  did  not  understand  in  the  least. 
She  might  comprehend  a  single  word  or  two,  or  a 
phrase  here  and  there;  but  a  rapid  interchange  of 
conversation  was  Greek  to  her,  and  the  lively  French 
action  seemed  to  her  mere  coquetry  meant  to  captivate 
her  husband. 

She  could  hardly  command  herself  enough  to  be 
moderately  civil  to  the  elder  Mrs.  Aylmer,  so  anxious 
was  she  to  catechise  both  mother  and  daughter-in-law, 
and  happily  her  language  was  equally  incomprehen- 
sible to  Madame  de  Henisson;   but  the  real  delicacy 


chap,  xvi  NUNS   ABROAD  215 

of  Mrs.  Aylmer  would  not  discourse  on  a  personal 
matter  in  the  presence  of  one  of  the  subjects.  She 
invited  the  visitor  to  come  upstairs  and  take  off  her 
hat  before  the  early  dinner.  This,  of  course,  the  good 
lady  had  intended,  as  a  huge  bandbox  in  the  hall, 
containing  her  cap,  could  testify.  Caroline  rose  to 
conduct  her,  but  grandmamma,  kindly  guessing  what 
was  in  store,  signed  to  her  to  remain  still. 

"  Well,  ma'am,"  was  the  beginning,  as  soon  as  they 
were  outside  the  drawing-room  door,  "  so  Caroline  has 
been  turning  your  house  into  a  convent." 

"  It  is  my  son's  house." 

"And  I  wonder  what  he  will  say  to  such  doings 
when  he  comes  home." 

"I  think  he  will  say  that  his  wife  was  quite  right 
to  give  an  asylum  to  the  friends  of  her  childhood." 

Whereat  Mrs.  Darpent  snorted,  and  was  about  to 
turn  to  the  door  of  the  guest-chamber.  "  Not  there, 
if  you  please,  ma'am.     Come  into  my  room." 

"Oh-h!  You  are  giving  them  up  half  the  house. 
Well  if  they  leave  you  room  for  yourselves  !  " 

"  They  have  only  the  red  and  blue  rooms,  and  the 
closet." 

"  What,  for  ten  nuns  ?  " 

"  There  are  only  three  besides  Madame  cle  Henisson. 
The  rest  stayed  behind." 

"  I  declare  !  Mistress  Penelope  Swan  vowed  there 
were  eight,  and  old  Mistress  Howland  ten  ! " 

"  There  are  but  three.  We  are  very  anxious  about 
the  rest,  who  would  not  leave  their  convent." 

"  Quite  enough  of  them.  I  shall  see  them  at  dinner, 
I  suppose  ?  " 

"I  think  not.  They  prefer  to  have  their  meals 
alone,  with  Zelie  to  wait  on  them." 


216  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

"  Oh,  the  black  woman  !  A  use  for  her !  But  I 
shall  see  them,  no  doubt." 

"  They  do  not  wish  to  admit  strangers." 

"  Oh  !  "  These  exclamations  were  in  an  indescrib- 
able tone,  varying  between  pique  and  surprise.  "  But 
at  any  rate  I  can  see  this  chapel  they  have  put 
np  in  this  house,  that  I  may  —  I  mean  Mr.  Darpent 
mav  —  understand  what  Popish  things  you  have 
here." 

"  Indeed,  ma'am,  I  do  not  see  how  you  can.  They 
have  made  a  little  oratory  in  the  powdering-closet,  and 
there  is  no  way  into  it  but  through  their  rooms." 

"You  do  not  know  it  yourself,  and  you  are  sat- 
isfied!" 

"  I  spoke  to  the  rector,  and  he  advised  me  not  to 
interfere  with  them." 

"  Oh,  good  easy  man  !  I  pity  the  captain  when  he 
comes  home  and  finds  you  all  Papists.  And  pray  who 
is  bearing  the  expense  of  all  this  ?  " 

"There  is  no  great  expense.  The  house  is  large 
enough.  Zelie  suffices  for  attendance,  and  as  to  food, 
it  really  grieves  me  to  find  how  very  little  suffices 
them." 

"Ah!  fasting,  no  doubt,  or  some  such  Popish 
foolery." 

"  I  believe  they  do  fast  for  the  sake  of  their  poor 
country  and  their  sisters,  and  above  all,  their  poor 
king  and  queen." 

"  Highty-tighty,  you  are  half-way  to  be  a  Catholic. 
What  good  do  they  expect  to  do  their  king  and  queen 
that  way  ?  " 

Mrs.  Aylmer  thought  it  best  not  to  answer,  though 
she  was  actually  so  much  of  a  true  Catholic,  that  she 
bethought  her  of  the  many  times  in  the  Scripture  that 


chap,  xri  NUNS  ABROAD  217 

fasting  had  given  wings  to  prayer;  and  that  every 
native  of  unhappy  France  might  well  fast  in  humili- 
ation, while  the  country  seemed  to  be  given  np  to 
foes,  the  retaliation  in  bloodshed  and  anarchy  for  the 
accumulated  sins  of  generations  past. 

Poor  woman,  she  had  endured  the  worst  of  Mrs. 
Darpent's  very  conscientious  scolding,  for  Caroline 
dexterously  kept  out  of  a  tete-cl-tete,  and  Mr.  Darpent 
was  not  only  fascinated  with  Madame  de  Henisson's 
pretty  manners,  but  as  he  told  his  niece  in  private, 
"  Of  course  she  could  not  have  sent  the  poor  things  to 
the  workhouse,  and  if  it  were  all  right  with  her  hus- 
band and  his  mother,  of  course  all  was  well."  Nay, 
under  all  her  grumblings  his  wife  was  of  the  same 
mind,  though  she  was  greatly  disappointed  at  not 
being  allowed  a  sight  of  the  nuns,  who  were  quite  as 
much  a  matter  of  curiosity  to  her  as  if  they  had  been 
in  Exeter  Change. 

The  old-fashioned  respect  for  the  presence  of  ser- 
vants obviated  family  discussions  at  dinner-time,  after 
which  she  went  out  shopping  and  making  calls ;  but 
she  contrived,  when  going  up  to  put  on  her  walking- 
dress,  to  (willingly)  forget  her  way  and  get  a  peep  into 
the  red  room,  where  she  had  one  glimpse  at  the  dread- 
ful sight  of  a  black  hood  and  white  scapular,  and  a 
young  dark-browed  face  under  it,  apparently  mending 
a  tablecloth. 

She  mumbled  "  I  beg  pardon  "  and  retreated,  satis- 
fied so  far,  but  ashamed.  Her  husband  had  been  sat- 
isfied about  the  notorious  smuggler,  as  the  brave  man 
who  had  aided  the  escape,  and  brought  the  ladies  to 
the  door.  And  as  Mrs.  Darpent's  silk  shawl,  and  even 
his  own  best  brandy,  came  from  unmentionable  sources, 
it  was  better  to  pry  no  farther.     Moreover,  he  had  an 


218  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

interview  with  the  rector,  who  knew  that  it  was  in 
consideration  to  raise  a  fund  for  the  assistance  of 
emigrants,  partly  private  and  partly  from  Govern- 
ment, and  this  intelligence  did  a  good  deal  to  pacify 
Mrs.  Darpent,  since  it  showed  that  Caroline  was  swim- 
ming with  the  stream. 

Whether  she  would  ask  for  a  share  in  the  subsidy 
or  not  was  a  different  question.  In  the  meantime 
Downford  should  have  been  grateful,  for  the  nuns, 
though  unseen,  afforded  admirable  food  for  gossip; 
and  such  stories  as  could  be  picked  up  from  the  chil- 
dren or  servants  went  the  round  of  the  card-tables, 
and  enlivened  the  "  dish  of  tea  "  in  half  the  "  genteel " 
abodes  of  the  neighbourhood. 


CHAPTER   XVII 

SCEUR    FRANCHISE 

They  love  her  best  who  to  themselves  are  true, 
And  what  they  love  to  dream  of  dare  to  do. 

Lowell. 

Time  went  on,  and  terrible  reports  came  at  intervals 
of  the  doings  in  France.  Monsieur  Beaudesert  wrote 
from  London  that  he  was  striving  to  find  a  French 
bishop  who  might  relieve  Felicite  from  her  scruples, 
but  he  had  not  hitherto  succeeded,  and  he  had  urgent 
letters  from  America  which,  compelled  him  to  pursue 
his  arrangements  for  obtaining  experienced  miners. 
Meanwhile  he  entreated  Mademoiselle  to  believe  that 
his  heart  was  still  at  her  feet. 

Caroline  delivered  the  message,  but  Felicite  only 
smiled  and  shook  her  head.  "  He  will  never  succeed," 
she  said ;  "  I  had  better  resign  myself." 

It  w^as  soon  after  this  that,  on  a  warm  August  day. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Tresham  were  announced.  They  were 
the  Roman  Catholic  neighbours  with  wrhom  both 
Darpents  and  Aylmers  were  slightly  acquainted,  but 
w7ho  generally  held  themselves  aloof,  partly  from  old 
family  habit,  partly  from  actual  poverty.  They  came 
eagerly  to  call  on  Madame  de  Henisson,  and  after 
greetings  had  been  exchanged,  the  lady  said,  "  I  under- 
stand that  you  have  had  the  honour  of  receiving  some 
fugitive  Religious." 

219 


220  THE    RELEASE  part  ii 

"  Indeed  we  have,  ma'am/'  said  Caroline,  "  they  are 
old  friends  who  educated  me." 

"  Ah  !  then  yon  are  of  us." 

"ISTo,  madame,  but  I  was  sent  to  Ste.  Lucie  for 
education.  Madame  de  Henisson  is  my  cousin,  and 
brought  the  Beligious  here,  knowing  of  the  welcome." 

"Indeed  it  is  a  good  work,  a  blessed  work.  I  am 
tempted  to  ask  whether  I  may  share  it  with  you." 

Knowing  what  the  relief  to  her  mother-in-law  would 
be,  Caroline  could  by  no  means  refuse  the  proposal, 
and  Madame  de  Henisson  went  upstairs  to  ask  the 
ladies  to  see  their  English  co-religionist.  This  they 
did  gladly,  and,  moreover,  it  appeared  that  a  priest 
was  waiting  in  the  carriage.  He  was  presently  taken 
upstairs.  Mr.  Tresham  meanwhile  sat  and  told  the 
shocked  and  sympathetic  ears  of  the  two  Mrs.  Ay  liners 
of  the  horrors  of  which  the  Abbe  had  brought  the 
tidings.  He  had  escaped,  as  it  were,  by  the  skin  of 
his  teeth,  having  been  hidden  in  an  old  boat  among 
the  reeds  of  the  little  tributary  of  the  Seine,  and  feel- 
ing immensely  grateful  to  the  wild  duck's  brood  that 
swam  about  in  front  as  if  no  human  being  lurked 
there.  Thus  he  had  escaped  being  either  torn  to 
pieces  at  once  by  the  sans-culottes,  or  being  committed 
to  the  Abbaye  —  the  Carmelite  Abbey  —  which  had 
by  this  time  become  the  shambles  of  his  brethren. 

He  had  thence  made  his  way  down  to  the  river, 
and  had  fallen  in  with  a  good  bargeman,  Irish,  who 
made  it  his  business  to  assist  the  escape  of  the  per- 
secuted. 

"  Denny  Molony  !  "  cried  Caroline ;  "  the  same  who 
brought  the  nuns  and  Madame  de  Henisson." 

"The  same,  madam.  A  man  who  merits  immortal 
honours." 


chap,  xvn  SCEUR   FRANCHISE  221 

"Indeed  he  does.  We  all  owe  infinitely  much  to 
him.     But  did  he  tell  the  Abbe,  your  friend " 

"  The  Abbe  de  Pont  de  Loire." 

"  Oh,  I  know  him,  I  know  him  !  He  was  chaplain 
at  Ste.  Lucie.  How  glad  the  ladies  must  be  to  see 
him ! " 

"Alas!  though,  he  brings  them  sad  news  —  more 
than  sad,  incredibly  shocking,"  said  Mr.  Tresham. 

"  Did  he  tell  you  what  became  of  those  who  were 
left  behind,  the  dear  Mother  Prioress,  Mere  Domi- 
nique, and  the  young  Sister  ?  "  cried  Caroline. 

"  So  far  as  I  gathered  the  history,  the  elder  nun  had 
had  another  stroke,  and  was  dying.  They  carried 
her  down  to  the  vaults  below  the  chapel,  where  the 
Abbe  gave  her  the  last  rites,  while  the  cries  of  the 
raging  mob  sounded  above,  as  her  face  was  settling 
into  perfect  calm.  The  priest  was  the  object  of  the 
search ;  the  lives  of  the  Sisters  were  not  held  to  be  in 
danger  from  the  law  (or  what  was  called  such),  and 
the  Prioress  insisted  that  he  should  follow  the  lay- 
sister  who  could  show  him  a  secret  passage  from  the 
vaults  to  the  garden  sheds  and  thence  to  the  river. 

"  And  did  not  they  take  it  ?  "  exclaimed  Caroline. 

"  They  remained  doing  the  last  offices  to  the  poor 
body." 

"  And  did  he  leave  them  ?     Oh !  " 

"  Eemember,  he  was  in  far  more  danger  than  they, 
and  the  Mother  Prioress  insisted." 

"And  then?" 

"I  believe  the  mob  found  them  kneeling  on  each 
side  of  the  corpse,  and  were  overawed  for  the  moment, 
leaving  them  there.  And  the  next  night,  when  all 
was  quiet,  but  only  the  remnants  lying  sacked  about 
them,  he  returned,  and  they  committed  the  body  to 


222  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

the  grave  by  the  lights  of  the  smouldering  fires  of  their 
furniture." 

Tears  might  well  come  to  Caroline's  eyes  as  she 
pictured  to  herself  the  cloister  and  buildings  she  knew 
so  well  lighted  up  by  the  naming  remnants  of  the  old 
woodwork,  the  school  lesson  books,  and  furniture,  and 
the  Prioress  and  Soeur  Francoise  with  her  heavenly 
face  kneeling  in  the  midst  of  desolation.  She  only 
asked,  however,  "  And  then  ?  " 

"  The  Prioress  decided  on  putting  on  a  secular  dis- 
guise which  she  had  ready  and  endeavouring  to  make 
her  way  to  some  relations  in  Anjou,  taking  with  her 
the  young  Sister.  The  Abbe  parted  with  them  on  the 
high-road,  and,  as  you  heard,  lurked  in  cottages  and 
among  the  marshes  till  he  could  escape." 

"  Did  he  hear  no  more  ?  " 

"He  much  fears  that  they  were  the  two  whom  he 
heard  of  as  seized  as  intending  to  emigrate.  In  that 
case  they  would  be  taken  to  Paris." 

It  sounded  like  a  death-warrant,  for  the  massacres 
in  the  prisons,  done  under  the  cowardly  terror  of  an 
invasion  by  the  emigrants,  had  been  known  by  this 
time  in  England. 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Caroline,  "  dear  Sceur  Franchise.  She 
had  the  spirit  of  a  martyr.  I  saw  her  face  when  she 
made  her  profession,  and  it  was  that  of  one  dead  to 
the  world ! " 

"  Still,"  said  Mrs.  Aylmer  the  elder,  "  we  may  hope 
for  the  best.  They  may  have  been  saved  from  those 
slaughterers,  who,  by  all  accounts,  fell  chiefly  upon 
the  clergy  and  on  gentlemen." 

This  was  true,  though  it  was  not  till  long  after  that 
the  history  of  the  slow  "Passion"  which  the  sweet 
and  gentle  Soeur  Francoise  willingly,  nay  cheerfully, 


chap,  xvii  SCEUR   FRANQOISE  223 

was  enduring  at  that  very  time  in  the  prison  of  La 
Force,  where  no  sufferings  seemed  to  check  her  bright, 
kindly,  and  even  playful  spirit,  since  she  endured  all 
with  joy  as  the  footsteps  of  her  Lord. 

For  the  present,  however,  no  more  was  known,  and 
Caroline  could  only  hear  the  same  history  in  other 
words  from  the  Abbe  when  he  came  down  with  Mrs. 
Tresham  and  Madame  de  Henisson  from  their  visit  to 
the  recluses  above. 

It  appeared  that  the  Treshams  were  ready  and 
eager  to  receive  the  two  elder  nuns;  but  as  they 
already  housed  the  Abbe  de  Pont  de  Loire  and  an- 
other priest,  they  really  had  no  room,  nor  perhaps 
means,  for  also  taking  Soeur  Philomene.  Caroline  was 
very  glad  it  should  be  so.  Grandmamma  would  be 
much  relieved  by  the  absence  of  the  two  old  ladies, 
with  their  thoroughly  monastic  arrangements,  and 
they  would  be  infinitely  happier  in  the  Tresham  sur- 
roundings ;  but  it  seemed  to  her  well  that  Felicite 
should  lead  a  freer  life,  and  not  be  surrounded  with 
all  their  conventual  restrictions. 

The  Abbe  must  have  been  of  somewhat  the  same 
opinion.  He  came  over  the  next  day  to  fetch  the  two 
nuns,  and  had  a  long  interview  with  Soeur  Philomene, 
for  whom  there  had  scarcely  been  time  while  the 
Treshams  were  calling.  Meanwhile  the  mothers  were 
pouring  out  their  warm  gratitude  to  their  hostesses, 
whose  goodness  seemed  to  them  beyond  all  price,  and 
only  to  be  rewarded  by  prayers  that  they  might  be 
brought  to  the  Holy  Mother  Church  into  which  Caro- 
line had  been  baptized. 

"  Tell  them,"  said  Mrs.  Aylmer,  "  that  you  were 
indeed  baptized  into  the  true  Church,  which  is  above 
all  these  divisions.     You  can  put  it  clearly  enough." 


224  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

Caroline  tried,  but  doubted  whether  she  had  done 
so,  for  Mere  de  St.  Hilaire  only  shook  her  head,  and 
said  that  her  dear  pupil  was  "  CcUholique  malgre  elle" 
and  they- parted  with  tears  and  embraces  such  as  had 
been  cut  short  at  the  real  break-up. 

The  Abbe  was  a  good  man,  but  not  a  rigid,  nor 
perhaps  a  courageous,  one ;  and  he  had  known,  better 
than  any  one  perhaps,  all  the  anguish  of  mind,  the 
doubts  and  sense  of  expediency,  as  well  as  of  deference 
to  Episcopal  authority  which  had  been  undergone  by 
Felicite  and  by  the  Prioress  before  her  profession  had 
been  made. 

Such  considerations  might  have  been  with  him  when 
he  took  upon  himself  to  relax  the  Benedictine  rule, 
and  permit  the  girl  to  live  as  a  guest  with  the  family, 
only  observing  certain  times  of  devotion  in  the  oratory, 
going  out  in  the  town,  and  wearing  an  ordinary  dress, 
as  well  as  returning  to  her  own  name.  She  would 
come  with  Madame  de  Henisson  to  attend  Mass  at 
Court  Tresham  on  days  of  greater  solemnity,  but  it 
was  too  far  off  to  do  so  every  Sunday. 

Of  Felicite's  own  family  he  knew  nothing,  and  it 
remained  absolutely  uncertain  whether  they  remained 
in  their  chateau,  had  escaped  over  the  border  into 
Switzerland,  or  had  been  arrested.  The  Bishop  of 
Charmilly  had  probably  been  among  the  slaughtered 
priests  at  La  Force,  but  there  was  no  knowing.  And 
the  doubt  did  not  seem  to  burden  Felicite's  mind. 
Liberty  was  a  strange  new  boon  to  her,  such  as  she 
had  not  enjoyed  since  those  happy  days  when  she  had 
been  under  the  English  governess  at  home. 

"I  like  you  without  the  great  black  hood,"  said 
little  Eustace,  coming  up  to  her  for  a  kiss. 

He  could  not  say  "Felicite,"  and  his  mother  told 


chap,  xvn  SCEUR  FRANQOISE  225 

him  to  call  his  new  friend  Joy.  "  I  hope  it  is  a  good 
omen  for  this  and  further  joy,"  she  said. 

She  had  dressed  Felicite  as  well  as  she  could  from 
her  own  wardrobe,  and  neither  Mrs.  Aylmer  nor 
Cecile  at  the  first  moment  knew  the  slim  young  lady, 
with  dark  hair  uncovered  except  by  a  little  round 
lace  cap,  who  shyly  descended  the  stairs.  The  brows 
were  very  black,  the  face  more  resolute  than  beautiful ; 
but  when  the  children  came  and  caressed  her,  showing 
the  wooden  doll  and  the  spotted  horse,  there  came  a 
charming  bright  responding  smile,  such  as  Caroline 
had  never  beheld  before  in  all  their  eighteenth  months' 
acquaintance. 

Madame  de  Henisson  had  been  reviving  ever  since 
she  had  been  at  Downford.  She  had  thought  it  a 
duty  of  good  manners  to  conform  to  the  habits  of 
her  cousin's  household;  and  when  no  longer  under 
the  shadow  of  the  convent  and  the  first  associations 
of  her  widowhood,  she  had  begun  to  brighten,  and  all 
her  French  vivacity,  so  long  dimmed,  asserted  itself, 
when  with  Caroline,  the  playfellow  of  her  girlhood. 
She  picked  up  enough  of  English,  too,  to  understand 
and  make  herself  understood,  and  it  was  no  wonder 
that  the  rector  and  the  doctor,  the  pupil  and  the  son, 
as  well  as  others,  also  held  Mrs.  Aylmer's  to  be  the 
pleasantest  card-parties  in  the  town;  while  several 
elders  and  half  of  the  young  people  sided  with  Mis- 
tress Penelope  Swan,  and  declared  that  poor  old  Mrs. 
Aylmer's  evenings  were  quite  spoilt.  "  It  was  intol- 
erable to  see  that  Frenchwoman's  airs,  making  fools 
of  all  the  men !  Teaching  them  trictrac  —  a  Jacobin 
French  game !  What  would  they  bring  in  next  ? 
And  as  to  the  young  one.  They  say  she  is  a  nun, 
and  she  sits  up  vastly  demure,  but  depend  on  it  she 
Q 


226  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

is  up  to  some  mischief.     I  saw  her  making  eyes  at 
young  Chalfont." 

What  was  chiefly  concerning  the  two  ladies  for  the 
present  was  their  entire  dependence  on  their  hostesses. 
Madame  de  Henisson  had  hopes  from  her  sister,  but 
Felicite  was  absolutely  destitute.  They  were  not  much 
disturbed  as  to  food,  but  when  Felicite  had  to  be  fitted 
out  entirely,  and  winter  was  coming  on,  anxiety  began. 
Both,  as  well  as  Caroline  herself,  and  all  the  pupils  of 
Ste.  Lucie,  were  excellent  needle-women  and  fair  house- 
keepers and  cooks,  and  to  the  arts  there  taught  many 
of  the  delicacies  of  Mrs.  Aylmer's  suppers  were  owing ; 
but  Felicite  could  not  feel  that  there  was  any  equiva- 
lent for  the  hospitality  she  enjoyed  purely  out  of  com- 
passion. 

They  made  and  trimmed  all  the  hats  and  caps,  and 
embroidered  whatever  dresses  they  could  lay  hands  on, 
besides  dressing  a  doll  for  Nancy  most  elaborately,  the 
very  pockets  beautifully  stitched ;  and  they  also  con- 
trived to  offer,  through  the  servants,  to  work  for  the 
mercer's  shop  in  the  little  town;  but  ladies  did  so  much 
plain  work  and  embroidery  at  home  that  there  was  not 
much  opening,  and  at  last  the  doctor's  wife,  edified  by 
hearing  Nancy  air  her  scraps  of  French,  made  the  pro- 
posal that  Mademoiselle  de  Monfichet  should  teach  her 
little  girls  French  history  and  music. 

Cecile  was  shocked.  "  Really,  my  cousin,"  she  said, 
"you  should  know  better  than  to  convey  such  a  re- 
quest from  the  wife  of  a  mere  doctor  to  a  demoiselle 
of  quality." 

"  The  demoiselle  is  happy  to  do  something  for  her 
own  expenses,"  said  Felicite,  smiling,  "  and  as  to  the 
doctor " 

There  she  broke  off  short,  blushing  and  ashamed  to 


chap,  xvn  SCEUR   FRANgOISE  227 

show  how  much  her  thoughts  were  roaming  to  the  son 
of  a  doctor  of  medicine.  She  accepted  the  proposal, 
and  ere  long  had  made  the  two  children  very  fond  of 
her,  and  chatter  French  to  the  general  admiration  of  all 
who  did  not  think  mischief  must  come  of  all  the  for- 
eigners. Zelie  attended  Mademoiselle  to  the  door,  and 
fetched  her  back,  otherwise  Madame  Henisson  would 
not  have  been  pacified ;  the  town  laughed  at  the  gov- 
erness escorted  by  the  negress,  but  Felicite  was  evi- 
dently happy,  quite  a  different  creature  from  the 
broken-hearted  girl  whom  Caroline  had  first  known; 
and  when  she  talked  of  "  Monsieur  le  docteur,"  it  was 
plain  that  she  liked  him  the  better  for  his  profession, 
great,  rough,  plain-spoken  country  doctor  as  he  was. 
Yet  Gallic  temperament  and  power  to  enjoy  the  pres- 
ent were  needed  to  keep  up  the  spirits  of  the  two 
guests  as  winter  brought  on  the  terrible  year  1793, 
and  with  it  the  execution  of  the  King,  the  captivity 
of  his  family,  and  the  daily  murder  of  all  that  was 
noblest  in  France ;  while  the  nation  seemed  as  it  were 
drunken  with  blood,  and  the  long  course  of  ancestral 
crimes  were  being  visited  on  many  an  innocent  head, 
and  many  a  frivolous  character  was  redeemed  and  rose 
into  nobility  through  that  terrible  ordeal  of  suffering 
which  made  the  scourge  into  a  palm  of  martyrdom. 

To  Caroline's  surprise,  her  French  friends  did  not 
seem  to  feel  it  as  deeply  as  did  her  uncle,  easy-going 
country  squire  as  he  had  always  seemed.  They  wept, 
sometimes  even  sat  up  at  night  to  weep  and  pray  when 
any  fresh  appalling  news  arrived,  but  then  they  put  it 
from  them  and  were  as  lively  as  usual ;  but  he  —  when 
he  came  to  Downford — used  to  come  and  sit  with  his 
niece  and  Mrs.  Aylmer  and  talk  over  the  horrors  that 
he  had  heard.     Traditions  of  the  Huguenot  persecu- 


228  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

tions  had  descended  in  the  family,  and  he  had  learnt 
the  history  of  those  later  endeavours  in  the  days  of 
the  Fronde,  which  had  sent  his  great-grandfather,  as 
an  exiled  man,  to  find  a  new  home  in  England. 

"  Every  striving  after  truth,  every  attempt  at  justice 
and  mercy  has  been  stifled,"  he  said.  "  And  here  is 
the  consequence !  God  forgive  us  if  we  are  tempted 
to  run  in  the  same  course  ! " 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

FOR   CONSCIENCE'    SAKE 

Our  life  is  turned 
Out  of  her  course,  wherever  man  is  made 
An  offering  or  a  sacrifice. 

Wordsworth. 

In  the  spring  Caroline  received  a  long  letter  from 
Monsieur  Beaudesert.  He  had  heard  tidings,  he  said, 
which  he  could  not  bear  to  communicate  to  Made- 
moiselle de  Monfichet;  and  he  therefore  begged  his 
good  friend  to  let  her  hear  them,  and  have  time  to  re- 
cover from  the  blow  before  he  attempted  to  see  her, 
as  lie  hoped  to  do  before  taking  out  his  miners  to 
America  in  the  course  of  the  next  month. 

He  had  met  in  London  a  gentleman  who  had  formed 
part  of  the  army  of  emigrants  in  the  Low  Countries, 
which  had  been  defeated  at  Valmy.  From  him  he  had 
learnt  that  the  Duke  of  Drelincourt,  Mademoiselle's 
brother-in-law,  had  been  killed  in  that  battle,  while  his 
young  wife  and  her  little  girl  were  in  Germany.  The 
Marquis  de  Monfichet  and  his  wife  had  been  taken  in 
their  chateau,  carried  to  Paris,  and  their  names  had 
been  found  in  the  lists  of  the  ci-devant  nobility  sent  to 
the  guillotine.  One  of  the  persons  whom  Beaudesert's 
friend  had  seen  in  the  Low  Countries  knew  the  fact 

229 


230  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

with  absolute  certainty ;  so  that  no  loophole  for  hope 
remained. 

He  added  that  it  was  no  fit  time  to  mention  his 
hopes  to  Mademoiselle  de  Monfichet,  and,  in  fact,  he 
had  nothing  certain  to  lay  before  her;  but  he  could 
not  help  telling  Mrs.  Aylmer,  who  had  been  so  good 
a  friend  to  them  both,  that  he  had  taken  advice, 
and  obtained  an  assurance  that  his  hopes  might  be 
legally  and  validly  accomplished,  though  on  the  side 
of  the  Church,  the  bishop  whom  he  had  seen  declared 
that  the  lady  could  not  be  absolved  from  her  vows 
without  reference  to  the  Pope.  He  expected  to  have 
the  honour  of  coming  down  in  the  course  of  the  next 
fortnight  to  explain  the  matter,  and  he  could  not  help 
entertaining  hopes  of  overcoming  her  scruples. 

The  terrible  intelligence  had  to  be  carried  to  Feli- 
cite.  She  saw  in  a  moment  that  there  was  some  such 
communication  to  be  made  to  her,  and  her  first  ques- 
tion was,  "  Who  is  it  ?     Is  it  all  of  them  ?  " 

Then  on  the  answer  came  the  wholesome  showers  of 
tears,  more  violent  perhaps  than  an  Englishwoman's 
would  have  been,  but  evidently  a  safe  outlet.  When 
Caroline  ventured  to  leave  her,  Mrs.  Aylmer  was  the 
first  to  propose  that  she  should  go  to  pour  out  her 
sorrows  to  her  friends  the  nuns  and  priest  at  Court 
Tresham.  Caroline  might  take  her  thither  in  a 
chaise,  and,  if  she  were  asked,  leave  her  there  for  a 
few  days. 

Accordingly  this  was  done.  The  poor  child  accepted 
the  proposal  with  all  the  gratitude  her  choking  sobs 
allowed  her  to  show,  and  they  set  out  on  their  melan- 
choly drive ;  when,  after  the  first  mile,  she  revived 
enough  to  talk  of  her  mother's  tenderness  and  her 
father's  petting  affection  before  those  unhappy  pro- 


chap,  xvin  FOR   CONSCIENCE'    SAKE  231 

posals  of  the  Duke  of  Drelineourt  had  made  everything 
into  bitterness. 

She  told  of  them  brightly,  then  relapsed  into  tears, 
and  when  they  arrived  at  the  old  house  with  its  octa- 
gon side,  turrets  in  red  brick,  and  its  iguana-like  crest 
of  tiles,  she  fell  into  a  fresh  agony  of  weeping  at  the 
thought  of  what  she  had  to  tell  the  sisters. 

Mrs.  Tresham  was  out,  but  Caroline  went  upstairs 
and  told  the  nuns  her  grievous  news,  before  fetching  in 
Felieite.  and  their  sympathy  was  vehement  —  indeed, 
Soeur  de  l'Annonciation  fainted  away  on  hearing  the 
tidings,  but  her  faintings  were  not  infrequent;  and 
Caroline  had  not  been  able  to  help  agreeing  with  her 
mother-in-law  that  they  were  due,  partly  to  constant 
fasting  and  partly  to  her  thinking  a  swoon  the  proper 
tribute  to  bad  news  —  for  she  revived  in  a  very  short 
time,  and  both  nuns  vied  with  each  other  in  leading 
Felicite  into  the  room  and  weeping  over  her. 

Though  the  lady  of  the  house  was  out  they  made  no 
difficulty  about  keeping  Soeur  Philomene,  especially  as 
they  were  sure  to  veiller  all  night.  And  so  the  orphaned 
girl  was  left,  waiting  to  see  the  Abbe  and  to  partici- 
pate in  the  masses  and  prayers  that  he  would  offer  in 
the  chapel.  He  was  out  at  this  time,  having  obtained 
a  few  pupils  in  the  neighbourhood  for  French  and 
Latin;  but  the  sisters  promised  his  ardent  sympathy. 
and  indeed  Mere  de  St.  Hilaire  showed  herself  so 
much  disposed  to  keep  the  latest  sister  for  ever  that 
Caroline  almost  doubted  whether  she  should  see  her 
young  friend  again,  and  wondered  how  she  should 
meet  Monsieur  Beaudesert  in  that  case. 

However,  at  a  fortnight's  end,  the  Abbe  and  Mrs. 
Tresham  brought  her  back  in  deep  mourning,  looking 
very  white  and  thin,  but  as  cheerful  as  before.     She 


232  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

was  soon  on  the  floor,  acting  mouse  to  Eustace's  cat, 
and  her  laugh  quite  scandalised  old  Mrs.  Aylmer,  who 
truly  supposed  that  it  was  French  to  recover  the  sur- 
face spirits  so  easily.  Such  a  blow,  as  she  truly  said, 
would  have  crushed  her  to  the  earth  for  a  much  longer 
time,  if  not  for  ever;  yet  Madame  de  Henisson  did  not 
seem  surprised  at  the  girl's  brightness,  and  readiness 
to  go  out  as  usual  to  her  pupils.  Father  and  mother 
both  executed,  uncle  murdered,  brother-in-law  killed, 
how  could  she  ever  be  happy  again  ? 

"  You  should  recollect,  grandmamma,  that  they  per- 
secuted her  dreadfully  before  she  went  into  the  con- 
vent, and  after  that  she  hardly  ever  saw  them." 

"  Ah,  well !  to  have  painful  remembrances  would 
make  it  all  the  worse  to  me." 

"  That  I  think  they  do,  or  have  done,  but  it  seems  to 
me  that  the  first  days  which  we  did  not  watch  were 
spent  in  grief  more  violent  and  more  strained  than  we 
should  have  thought  right  or  becoming  fit  resignation; 
and  now  the  sorrow  has  in  a  manner  exhausted  itself, 
and  she  can  look  to  the  present  and  the  future." 

"  Ah,  well !  to  be  sure  if  that  poor  unfortunate  lover 
comes  again,  there  will  be  no  question  of  duty  to  par- 
ents to  stand  in  the  way." 

<•'  I  doubt  whether  that  has  occurred  to  her,"  said 
Caroline.  "  She  was  supposed  to  die  to  them  as  to  the 
world  when  she  was  laid  down  within  that  pall." 

"  Ah,  poor  thing !  I  don't  understand  it.  but  I  sup- 
pose you  do  !  At  any  rate  I  hope  she  will  see  her  way 
to  making  the  poor  man  happy." 

Caroline  wished  it  most  heartily,  and  in  a  few  days 
more  Beaudesert  arrived  by  the  coach,  looking  well 
and  prosperous,  though  saddened  by  the  news  of  the 
death  of  the  Queen,  which  had  just  taken  place.     He 


chap,  xvin         FOR   CONSCIENCE'    SAKE  233 

was  not  naturally  on  her  side,  having  heard  many  of 
the  over-true  tales  of  her  frivolity,  and  the  calumnies 
on  her  character  which  were  afloat  not  only  among 
the  populace,  but  among  the  more  disaffected  of  the 
nobility.  Moreover,  he  had  learnt  that  his  relations, 
Monsieur  and  Madame  Normand,  were  in  prison,  in 
danger,  if  not  actually  denounced  by  the  monster  that 
had  begun  to  prey  upon  its  own  children.  But  all  the 
justice  and  pity  of  his  nature  had  been  roused  by  the 
barbarous  history  of  Marie  Antoinette's  imprisonment 
and  trial,  though  as  yet  the  full  atrocities  were  little 
known  in  England.  Madame  de  Henisson  was  so 
overwhelmed  with  the  tidings  that  she  retired  to  her 
room  to  weep  there,  and  evidently  expected  Felicite, 
who  was  gone  to  give  a  lesson,  to  join  her  in  her 
seclusion. 

But  when  Felicite  came  in  and  found  the  visitor  in 
the  parlour,  though  the  colour  flushed  into  her  cheeks, 
so  as  to  give  her  the  one  beauty  that  she  lacked,  under 
her  black  hat,  she  did  not  turn  and  flee  as  Caroline 
had  feared  that  she  would. 

She  let  M.  Beaudesert  approach,  bend  low  over  her 
hand  and  kiss  it.  He  knew  English  manners  too  well 
to  make  his  greeting  either  more  distantly  courteous  or 
more  ecstatic  before  the  eyes  of  the  other  ladies,  but 
his  countenance  expressed  all  that  he  durst  not  utter. 

The  first  words  were,  however,  on  the  fatal  tidings. 
"  Ah,  yes !  I  saw  it  posted  up  at  the  bookseller's  shop  ! " 
she  said.  "It  is  too — too  terrible!"  and  she  clasped 
her  hands  as  she  had  done  on  the  news  of  her  own 
bereavement.  "Ah,  there  are  so  many  to  grieve  for, 
one  knows  not  how  to  mourn  for  any  !  " 

"Truly  that  is  the  feeling  of  all  my  compatriots 
whom  I  have  seen,"  said  Beaudesert. 


231  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

"  Horror  upon  horror  seem  to  deaden  one's  mind  and 
feeling,"  said  Caroline. 

"  Does  Madame  de  Henisson  know  ?  "  asked  Felicite. 

"  Yes,  she  knows  all.  She  has  gone  to  her  room," 
said  Caroline. 

Felicite  moved  a  step  as  if  she  thought  she  ought  to 
follow,  but  lingered  as  Beaudesert  began  to  tell  more 
particulars.  It  was  a  gruesome  form  of  approach  of 
love,  but  yet  hearts  beat  high  even  while  cheeks  paled, 
and  tongues  spoke  of  misery  and  horror ;  acquaintance 
and  friends  were  inquired  for,  and  the  best  answer 
was  uncertainty.  The  young  man's  voice  of  grief  and 
sympathy  was  drawing  them  all  the  closer.  Mrs. 
Aylmer  sat  and  listened,  and  lifted  up  her  hands  in 
dismay  and  pity  as  her  daughter-in-law  interpreted 
each  frightful  piece  of  intelligence  of  what  may  well 
be  called  the  Eeign  of  Terror,  then  at  the  height. 
Mrs.  Aylmer  begged  M.  Beaudesert  to  remain  to  din- 
ner, and  Felicite  went  to  summon  Madame  de  He- 
nisson, who  would  not  come,  having  shed  too  many 
tears,  and  given  way  to  too  many  outbursts  to  appear. 
She  expected  Felicite  to  remain  with  her,  but  the 
young  lady  decided  that  she  could  not  do  so  out  of 
bienseance  towards  Madame  Aylmer,  and  Cecile  ad- 
mitted the  plea,  even  though  she  suspected  that  there 
were  other  considerations. 

Yet  the  dinner  was,  as  far  as  the  two  guests  were 
concerned,  an  empty  ceremony.  Each  knew  what 
was  coming,  and  neither  could  eat,  though  Beaude- 
sert made  not  unsuccessful  efforts  at  conversation  on 
matters  indifferent.  Afterwards,  the  grandmother 
escaped  to  amuse  the  children,  and  their  mother 
would  have  done  the  same,  but  that  Felicite  caught 
her  by  the  gown  and  entreated  her  not  to  go  away, 


chap,  xviii  FOR   CONSCIENCE'    SAKE  235 

or  she  must  follow ;  and  Caroline  was  recalled  to  her 
French  conscience  enough  to  perceive  that  propriety 
demanded  her  presence. 

She  retired  as  far  as  possible  into  the  window-seat, 
trying  to  work  diligently  and  to  efface  herself,  but  it 
was  not  possible  not  to  listen  most  anxiously,  and  to 
be  aware  that  she  was  witnessing  a  scene  of  passionate 
love  such  as  she  had  never  seen  approached,  except 
when  her  husband  had  taken  her  to  Drury  Lane  to 
see  Mrs.  Siddons.  Theirs  had  been  a  quiet,  unde- 
monstrative courtship.  George  Aylmer  had  come  for 
her  as  for  a  property  that  belonged  to  him,  and  she 
had  nestled  into  his  love  and  tenderness  as  that  which 
had  been  lacking  to  her  ever  since  she  lost  her  father. 
Her  uncle  and  aunt  had  been  glad  enough  to  give  her 
to  him,  and  nothing  could  have  been  more  tranquil ; 
though,  however,  their  affection  for  one  another  was 
ardent  and  constant.  Here,  however,  she  saw  first 
Beaudesert  eagerly  expounding  the  situation  to  his 
lady-love,  who  sat  upright  in  her  chair,  her  brows  con- 
tracted over  her  dark  deep  eyes,  her  hand  pressed 
over  her  lips  as  if  to  prevent  them  from  involuntary 
betrayal,  listening  to  all  that  he  had  been  able  to 
learn  in  London,  among  lawyers  of  either  nation  and 
priests  of  his  own. 

Lawyers,  English  and  French  alike,  had  assured 
him  that  there  was  no  danger  of  the  legality  of  their 
union  being  disputed,  certainly  not  even  in  France  if 
there  were  ever  to  be  a  restoration  of  the  old  regime. 
So  many  clerical  personages  had  married,  that  there 
would  certainly  be  no  examination  into  previous  vows. 
What  should  hinder  her  being  united  to  him  the  very 
next  day,  and  sailing  with  him  in  the  ship  where  he 
had  taken  his  passage,  having  sent  on  the  miners  with 


236  THE  RELEASE  part  n 

their  foreman  to  Charleston  in  an  American  ship.  He 
tried  to  seize  her  hand  to  put  his  ring  on  her  finger, 
but  she  held  it  back.  "  No,  no,"  she  said,  "  not  yet. 
You  have  told  me  what  the  world  says;  what  does 
the  Church  say  ?  " 

Priests  and  bishops  alike  allowed  that  there  had 
been  very  hard  treatment,  and  that  the  Bishop  of 
Charmilly  had  no  right  to  stifle  the  young  lady's 
objections,  and  to  insist  that  she  had  a  vocation.  On 
that  they  were  agreed,  and  one  of  them  said  that,  con- 
sidering the  manner  of  her  compulsory  vows,  he  should 
not  object  to  marry  her,  and  she  might  do  penance 
afterwards  and  get  absolved. 

"  Do  penance  —  what  for  ?  "  asked  Felicite. 
"Ah!    what   know   I?     For   anything   the   priests 
choose  to  lay  on  a  scrupulous  conscience." 
"  What  do  they  lay  ?  " 

He  talked  on,  with  vehement  gesture,  of  what  the 
priests  had  no  right  to  say  —  of  enforced  half-uttered 
vows  being  mockery,  and  much  more ;  but  at  last  he 
was  brought  to  tell  that  all  the  clergy  whom  he  had 
been  able  to  consult  in  London,  except  that  one  liberal- 
minded  one,  half  a  Protestant,  half  an  Encyclopedist, 
had  agreed  in  saying  that  the  tyranny  which  had  com- 
pelled the  faltering,  barely  pronounced  vows,  had  been 
most  improper,  and  contrary  to  all  the  safeguards  pro- 
vided by  the  Order  and  the  Church;  but  that  even 
thus  extracted,  as  the  maiden  had  accepted  herself  as 
bound,  and  lived  the  life  of  a  novice  first  and  then  of 
a  professed  sister,  she  could  not  give  it  up  without  be- 
ing solemnly  absolved  from  her  pledges  as  the  Bride 
of  Christ,  and  this  —  by  the  constitution  of  the  Order 
—  could  only  be  done  by  the  direct  or  delegated  author- 
itv  of   the  Pope.      Most  reluctantly  was  this  drawn 


chap,  xviii  FOR   CONSCIENCE'    SAKE  237 

from  Beaudesert,  and  therewith  he  launched  into  every 
imaginable  persuasion.  The  vow  was  no  vow  in  the 
sight  of  Heaven,  extracted  as  it  was  by  absolute  com- 
pulsion ;  nay,  it  had  never  been  uttered  at  all ;  she 
had  appealed  against  it  from  the  first;  it  was  abso- 
lutely null  and  invalid.  Why  should  she  drive  him 
to  distraction  by  clinging  to  it  ?  — him  who  had  loved 
her  fervently  from  the  first.  Still  she  shook  her  head ; 
she  could  hardly  speak,  but  she  still  declared,  "Not 
without  absolution." 

Then  he  talked  of  the  new  country,  where  no  one 
would  know  of  her  profession,  no  one  would  blame 
her  even  if  they  did. 

"  I  should  blame  myself." 

Then  he  talked  wildly  of  the  desperation  to  which 
she  was  driving  him.  To  be  rid  of  the  priests  and 
their  scruples  he  would  turn  heretic  or  Voltairian,  he 
would  plunge  into  all  excesses  in  his  despair,  and  it 
would  be  her  doing.  His  blood  would  be  on  her  head. 
Would  she  not  save  him  ?  He  actually  threw  himself 
on  the  floor,  beat  his  forehead  and  clutched  his  hair, 
so  that  Caroline  looked  about  to  see  that  there  was 
nothing  that  he  could  do  himself  a  mischief  with  near 
at  hand.  Felicite  meanwhile  shed  floods  of  tears,  and 
murmured,  "No,  no,"  and  "Je  vous  prie,"  at  inter- 
vals; but  finally  she  seemed  to  brace  herself,  drew 
her  dark  eyebrows  together,  made  her  voice  clearer, 
and  said,  "To  transgress  a  law  of  God  through  the 
Church  cannot  bring  a  blessing.  To  break  a  promise  to 
my  Lord  and  Christ,  even  though  forced  from  me,  must 
be  a  crime.     It  would  so  remain  on  my  conscience." 

He  broke  in,  was  it  not  a  greater  crime  to  drive 
him  to  despair  and  murder  his  soul.  He  swore 
that 


238  THE   RELEASE  part  n 

She  interrupted  now.  "  Silence,  sir !  To  cross  one's 
sense  of  conscience  to  save  another  must  be  fatal  to 
both.  It  is  a  delusion.  Listen  to  me.  You  will  not 
act  madly  and  desperately.  You  will  remain  the  man 
whom  I  learnt  to  love  and  esteem.  You  will  go  out 
and  do  the  appointed  work  that  you  have  undertaken. 
I  will  meantime  do  all  that  is  possible  to  obtain  my 
release  from  our  holy  father  the  Pope.  There  is  hope 
now.  There  is  no  one  to  intercept  my  letters,  and  if 
I  do  not  obtain  an  answer,  I  will  go  to  Kome  as  a 
pilgrim,  and  throw  myself  at  the  feet  of  the  Pope, 
who,  I  think,  will  hear  me.     Will  this  content  you  ?  " 

There  was  more  approach  to  raving,  but  the  force 
which  Felicite  put  upon  herself  evidently  constrained 
her  lover,  and  he  ceased  to  threaten  her  with  his  own 
desperation,  only  pleading  the  misery  and  uncertainty 
he  should  suffer  after  his  long  years  of  patience ;  but 
he  finally  accepted  her  promise,  and  himself  gave  his 
pledge  that  he  would  do  nothing  to  render  himself 
unworthy  of  the  favour  that  she  was  to  obtain,  and 
to  which  she  looked  forward  with  a  certain  confi- 
dence. They  even  exchanged  pledges  at  last.  She 
did  not  refuse  to  wear  the  gold  ring  he  had  brought, 
in  hopes  of  a  closer  bond,  and  she  gave  him  the  little 
pearl  cross  from  her  rosary,  and  made  him  promise 
to  look  at  it  daily,  and  remember  that  she  was  striving 
for  him. 

They  parted  at  last.  Felicite  fell  back  in  a  dead 
faint,  and  was  very  ill  for  several  days,  the  strength 
of  her  resistance  telling  on  her.  And  Caroline  had 
to  defend  her,  for  Mrs.  Aylmer  thought  her  scruple  all 
superstition,  and  very  cruel  to  the  poor  young  man; 
and  there  were  others  who  said  that  it  was  really 
shameful   to    refuse   these   means   of  relieving   Mrs. 


chap,  xvin  FOR   CONSCIENCE'    SAKE  239 

Aylmer  of  the  expense  of  her  maintenance.  "  Beg- 
gars should  not  be  choosers,"  openly  quoted  Mrs. 
Darpent.  Indeed  Felicite  had  felt  the  sting  of  this 
herself,  for  she  implored  Mrs.  Aylmer  and  Mrs.  Tresham 
to  assist  her  in  getting  a  situation  as  resident  gov- 
erness or  French  teacher  in  a  school.  But  there  were 
far  fewer  openings  for  governesses  in  those  days, 
and  French  teachers  were  a  drug  in  the  market,  and 
nothing  was  heard  of  except  the  few  daily  lessons 
that  she  gave  in  the  town ;  and  as  her  two  friends 
would  accept  nothing  for  her  board,  she  saved  almost 
all  these  scanty  gains  for  her  journey  to  Rome. 

There  was  really  no  one  who  did  not  think  her  mis- 
taken, except,  of  course,  her  friends  at  Court  Tresham, 
and  even  they  thought  the  scruples  might  have  given 
way  under  such  circumstances.  The  rector  came  and 
talked  it  over  with  the  elder  Mrs.  Aylmer,  and  cited 
the  example  of  Luther,  a  much  more  effective  one  in 
those  days  than  in  the  present;  but,  as  Mrs.  Aylmer 
said,  Luther  and  Catharine  acted  according  to  their 
conscience,  Avhether  right  or  wrong,  and  Mademoiselle 
de  Monfichet  was  withheld  by  her  conscience,  perhaps 
foolishly,  and  with  a  burthen  on  it  wrongly  imposed, 
but  anyway  to  her  own  great  detriment,  both  of 
worldly  prosperity  and  of  the  yearning,  loving  heart. 

"  And,"  said  the  good  old  lady,  "  I  cannot  help 
recollecting,  '  Whatever  is  not  of  faith  is  sin.' " 

"  You  are  right,  madam,"  said  the  clergyman.  "We 
may  be  sorry  for  her,  but  we  must  respect  her." 

And  the  Abbe  at  Court  Tresham  assisted  her  in 
writing  her  appeal  to  His  Holiness,  and  promised  that 
means  should  be  found  for  forwarding  it,  though  in 
the  state  of  the  Continent,  he  could  not  give  her  many 
hopes  of  its  rinding  its  way  either  quickly  or  securely. 


CHAPTER   XIX 


CAPTAIN   AYLMER 


What'er  ray  desire  is,  in  thine  may  be  seen, 

I  am  King  of  this  household,  and  thou  art  the  Queen. 

Longfellow. 

News,  even  to  those  who  kept  their  eyes  on  the 
Gazette,  was  slow  of  travelling,  and  it  was  with  as 
much  amazement  as  joy  that  a  letter  was  received  one 
morning  at  Downford,  absolutely  dated  from  H.  M.  S. 
Ouclenarde,  Plymouth  harbour.  Short  and  sweet  it 
was,  bearing  the  tidings  that  the  Ouclenarde  had  been 
sent  from  Bombay  to  carry  home  the  ex-governor. 
Captain  Aylmer  hoped  that  his  wife,  and,  if  possible, 
his  mother  and  children,  would  come  down  and  see 
him  at  once,  for  he  understood  that  he  was  likely 
to  be  sent  out  again  immediately  to  join  the  fleet  in 
the  Mediterranean,  which  was  endeavouring  to  assist 
the  loyalists  at  Lyons.  He  was  to  hoist  his  flag  in  the 
Leopard,  a  splendid  new  ship,  as  soon  as  the  Ouclenarde 
was  paid  off.  It  was  time,  for  she  had  had  a  touch 
with  a  hurricane,  besides  a  sharp  affair  with  a  French 
brig.  To  describe  the  gladness  and  thankfulness  of 
mother  and  wife  would  be  impossible ;  but  poor  old 
Mrs.  Aylmer  was  in  the  midst  of  an  attack  of  rheuma- 
tism, and  both  children  had  whooping-cough,  so  there 
was  nothing  for  it  but  for  Caroline  to  go  alone,  laden 
240 


chap,  xix  CAPTAIN   AYLMEE  241 

with  kisses  for  papa,  and  the  handkerchiefs  that 
Nancy  had  been  hemming  for  him  for  the  last  six 
months.  She  travelled  by  post-chaise  to  meet  the 
Exeter  coach,  and  in  due  time,  after  many  a  hill  had 
been  climbed,  many  a  valley  splashed  through,  the 
coach  drew  up  at  the  hotel ;  and  at  the  same  moment 
one  blue-and-gold  uniform,  one  cocked  hat,  flashed  be- 
fore her  eyes,  the  coach-door  was  thrown  open,  and 
those  blue  arms  were  clasping  her  and  lifting  her  out. 

"  Oh,  George,  George  !  " 

"Well,  Carry,  my  love  !     What,  all  alone  ?  " 

"  Grandmamma  grieved  so  !  She  is  rheumatic,  and 
the  poor  dear  children  have  whooping-cough." 

"  Never  mind.  I've  got  you  all  the  sooner.  You're 
enough  for  any  man!  Come  on;  gig  is  off  the  jetty. 
Better  luck  than  I  looked  for  when  I  came  ashore, 
though  I  ran  up  to  meet  the  coach  for  the  chance. 
Davis,  bring  her  box  down,"  to  the  sailor,  who  touched 
his  hat.  "  So,  old  lady,  you  look  —  look  as  pretty  a 
darling  as  ever  you  were." 

"  And  oh,  George !  how  brown  you  are,  and  how 
thin ! " 

"  Is  that  the  best  word  yon  have  for  me,  madam  ? 
Knocking  about  in  the  Hooghly  is  not  the  way  to 
mend  one's  complexion." 

"  But  are  you  well  ?  " 

"  Well,  to  be  sure  !  You'll  see  how  we  punish  the 
English  bread  and  butter  and  the  fresh  beef.  And 
how  is  my  mother  ?  I  must  run  up  and  see  her  if 
only  for  a  day.  And  the  little  ones  ?  The  boy  out 
of  petticoats  ?  " 

"  Oh  yes,  and  as  proud  as  Punch ;  says  he  is  Joy's 
beau.  Joy  is  what  they  call  Felicite  de  Monfichet. 
You  had  my  letters  about  the  poor  ladies  ?  " 


242  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

"  Aye,  aye  !  Quite  riglit  to  take  them  in  out  of  the 
way  of  those  devils  let  loose  ! " 

By  this  time  they  were  nearly  at  the  jetty,  strug- 
gling through  the  crowd  of  sailors,  fishwomen,  bum- 
boat  women,  and  the  like,  till  they  came  in  sight  of 
the  trim  boat  keeping  a  little  off  the  jetty.  Up  it 
came  with  measured  plash  of  oars.  "  Oh,  that's 
music ! "  cried  Caroline,  and  she  recognised  the  boy 
midshipman  she  had  parted  with  as  the  grown  man 
with  blue  stubbly  chin.  But  a  greater  surprise  awaited 
her.  When  they  had  reached  the  Oudenarde,  and  she 
had  sprung  up  the  companion  ladder  with  the  dexter- 
ous hand  and  foot  of  one  at  home  in  such  places,  the 
first  person  she  beheld  among  the  circle  of  officers 
drawn  up  to  greet  her  was  no  other  than  Henri  Beau- 
desert  himself. 

She  could  hardly  listen  to  the  hearty  welcomes  of 
the  lieutenants  and  midshipmen,  for  her  astonishment 
and  eagerness  to  know  how  he  came  there. 

"I  owe  my  deliverance  and  life  to  Monsieur  le 
Capitaine,"  he  answered,  bowing  low. 

"  I  told  you  we  had  a  brush  with  a  couple  of  French 
brigs  off  Brest,"  explained  Captain  Aylmer.  "  There 
she  lies  —  as  pretty  a  brisk  little  craft  as  ever  I  set 
eyes  on,  and  we  found  this  poor  fellow  lying  in  the 
hold  in  irons." 

"  Expecting  the  guillotine,"  said  Beaudesert;  "unless 
the  rogues  lost  patience,  and  hung  me  beforehand  to 
the  yardarm.  My  life,  my  liberty  —  everything  I 
owe  to  Monsieur  votre  Mari,  madame,  as  I  owe  all  my 
hopes  to  you." 

"  Ah !  I  found  out  that  you  were  old  acquaintances," 
said  the  captain,  "though  there  was  no  time  to  pre- 
pare this  lady  for  the  meeting." 


chap,  xix  CAPTAIN   AYLMEE  243 

"  As  joyful  as  it  was  astonishing ! "  said  the  ever 
polite  Beaudesert.  "  May  I  be  permitted  to  inquire 
for  all  the  dear  friends  at  Downford  ?  " 

Caroline  hastened  to  reply  that  she  had  left  all  in 
good  health.  She  waited  for  a  quieter,  less  public 
moment  to  give  the  account  of  the  illness  that  her 
firmness  had  cost  Felicite,  and  of  her  actual  letter  to 
the  Pope. 

All,  and  a  great  deal  more,  had  to  be  explained  to 
her  husband,  while  they  were  arranging  her  accom- 
modation in  his  cabin.  He  quite  agreed  to  its  having 
been  perfectly  right  to  receive  the  poor  exiled  nuns, 
and  laughed  over  the  old  sailor  butler's  notions  of 
duty  and  discipline  to  the  generous  French-Irish 
smuggler.  As  to  Felicite  de  Monfichet,  he  whistled 
a  little,  and  then  said,  "Pity  she  could  not  see  her 
way  to  marry  the  poor  young  fellow  out  of  hand  and 
have  done  with  it;  but  as  those  Komans  call  the  old 
Pope  the  captain  of  the  ship,  and  she  has  sworn  to 
the  articles,  she  is  a  good  girl  to  stand  by  them,  and 
you  were  quite  right  to  help  her  —  like  your  father's 
own  child.  We  will  do  what  we  can  for  them  in 
their  fix." 

It  was  not  till  supper-time  that  Caroline  heard  the 
story.  Beaudesert  was  the  captain's  guest,  and  messed 
with  him,  and  the  two  lieutenants  were  likewise  in- 
vited in  honour  of  Mrs.  Aylmer's  arrival.  She  was 
a  great  favourite  on  board,  being  far  too  good  and 
experienced  a  sailor  to  give  trouble,  and  the  sight 
of  a  lady,  after  all  their  months  and  years  at  sea,  was 
no  small  enjoyment.  The  governor,  whom  they  had 
taken  home,  was  gone  off,  posting  to  London,  and 
there  was  more  ease  and  space  in  his  absence ;  so  as 
they  sat  round  the  table,  enjoying  an  English  goose, 


244  THE   RELEASE  pakt  ii 

Devonshire  apples,  and  Devonshire  cream,  the  tale  was 
told  how  Beaudesert  had  embarked  in  an  American 
ship  for  Charleston,  and  had  made  a  good  voyage  for 
nearly  a  week,  when  the  Miriam  was  overtaken  and 
boarded  by  a  French  brig.  The  Americans  had  not 
attempted  resistance,  being  in  alliance  with  the  French, 
but  as  there  was  war  with  England  they  had  to 
submit  to  examination  to  find  whether  there  were 
British  on  board.  The  crew  tried  to  shelter  their 
passenger  by  mispronouncing  his  name,  and  explain- 
ing where  he  had  shipped,  and  what  was  his  business ; 
but  he  was  claimed  as  an  emigrant  and  deserter, 
hauled  away,  put  into  irons,  and  thrown  into  that 
noisome  den,  the  hold,  where,  day  after  day,  the 
ruffianly  crew  came  to  insult  him  as  a  bad  citizen,  an 
enemy  to  liberty,  only  worthy  of  the  guillotine,  which 
was  waiting  for  him  as  soon  as  he  arrived  at  Brest. 
So  horrible  was  the  place,  so  infested  by  rats,  so 
wretched  and  scanty  the  provisions  and  water,  that 
he  almost  expected  to  escape  a  public  death,  and 
wondered  how  soon  his  friends  would  cease  to  look 
for  news  of  him  and  mourn  him  as  dead. 

Then  came  the  yells  announcing  a  hostile  ship,  and 
the  welcome  thunder  of  guns.  If  a  ball  actually 
crashed  through  the  ship's  side,  and  ended  his  misery, 
it  would  have  been  welcome;  but  there  were  other 
hopes  which  began  to  grow  upon  him,  as  the  cries 
sounded  like  consternation  amid  the  shrieks  of  agony. 

As  Captain  Aylmer  and  his  lieutenant  related  the 
history,  the  Oudenarde  had  been  attacked  by  a  flotilla 
of  three  brigs,  which  had  ventured  to  measure  them- 
selves with  a  British  frigate.  The  fight  had  been 
sharp,  but  without  loss,  and  two  men  still  lay  wounded. 
One  of  the  enemy  had  been  blown  up,  a  second  crowded 


chap,  xix  CAPTAIN    AYLMER  245 

on  all  sail  and  escaped,  the  third  had  been  disabled 
and  boarded,  and  the  sounds  of  the  trampling,  shouts, 
falls,  and  shots  penetrated  to  the  dark  hole  where  the 
captive  lay.  Hours  passed,  or  it  might  have  so  seemed 
to  him,  during  which  he  heard  a  gurgling,  and  began 
to  feel  that  the  bilge  water  in  the  hold  was  deepening, 
while  the  cries  and  commands  above  made  it  seem  as 
though  the  vessel  were  to  be  left  to  founder.  He 
gave  a  few  shouts  of  entreaty,  then  tried  to  resign 
himself  to  die,  truly  like  a  rat,  he  thought,  as  the 
creatures  scuttled  over  him.  A  tread  came  near ; 
there  was  a  shout  demanding  if  any  one  was  there. 
On  his  response,  there  was  a  hasty  struggle  to  get  the 
way  open,  and  stiff,  chilled,  loaded  with  irons,  barely 
able  to  help  himself,  he  was  dragged  out  by  an  Eng- 
lish sailor,  thrown  rather  than  helped  into  a  boat,  and 
up  the  side  of  the  Oudenarde,  where  such  of  his  coun- 
trymen as  had  not  been  sent  below  received  him  with 
yells  of  execration  as  a  deserter,  an  emigrant. 

That  was  testimony  enough  to  cause  his  fetters  to 
be  instantaneously  struck  off  by  the  smith,  while  a 
glass  of  grog  was  administered  by  another  hand ;  and 
thus  enabled  to  stand  and  speak,  he  made  himself 
known  to  the  captain,  and  explained  his  circum- 
stances, how  he  had  been  seized  in  an  American  vessel, 
after  having  long  been  working  in  the  United  States. 
He  also  stated  that  Mistress  Aylmer  had  been  a  friend 
to  whom  he  should  be  for  ever  grateful. 

Letters  were  so  slow  of  exchange  with  India  that 
Captain  Aylmer  was  no  farther  on  in  his  wife's  history 
than  the  arrival  of  the  nuns.  Her  letters,  telling  of 
Felicite's  affairs  and  Beaudesert's  importunity,  were 
probably  somewhere  on  the  Coromandel  Coast  looking 
for  the  Oudenarde,  and  the  captain  was  too  busy  to 


246  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

understand  the  nature  of  M.  Beaudesert's  obligations, 
only  that  there  was  some  extra  claim  of  friendship. 
Indeed,  the  liberated  prisoner  was  so  ill  from  the 
sufferings  he  had  endured  in  that  horrible  den  that  he 
had  only  come  from  his  berth  the  morning  before  the 
arrival  at  Plymouth,  and  as  he  sat  at  the  table  he 
looked  ten  years  older  than  when  Caroline  had  parted 
with  him  at  Downf ord  —  thin,  worn,  and  haggard, 
coughing  painfully,  and  the  marks  of  the  irons  on  his 
wrists. 

He  was  glad  to  retire  early ;  and  the  lieutenant  left 
the  captain  and  his  wife  to  consultation.  What  was 
to  be  done  with  him  ?  It  was  now  late  in  October, 
and  very  few  vessels  plied  between  the  United  States 
and  England  in  the  winter,  nor  indeed  did  poor  Beau- 
desert  seem  to  be  in  a  state  of  health  for  the  discom- 
forts of  an  autumn  voyage  in  a  chance  merchant  ship, 
nor  for  beginning  his  mining  work,  which  in  point  of 
fact  would  have  to  wait  to  commence  in  earnest  till 
the  spring. 

"  In  fact,"  said  Captain  Aylmer,  who  had  taken  a 
fancy  to  him,  and  wanted  to  understand  his  plans  of 
electric  conductors,  "the  wisest  way  would  be  for 
him  to  take  a  trip  in  the  Leopard,  Will  you  have 
him  for  a  guest,  Carry,  and  add  to  the  favours  of 
madame  ?  " 

For  the  idea  had  been  already  started,  but  scarcely 
examined,  that  Caroline  should  accompany  her  hus- 
band as  far  as  Gibraltar.  Wives  were  not  at  that  time 
absolutely  prohibited  articles  on  board,  especially  for 
short  voyages.  It  was  intended  that  the  Leopard 
with  other  ships  should  reinforce  Lord  Hood's  fleet, 
then  endeavouring  to  succour  the  loyalists  of  Toulon ; 
but  Captain  Aylmer  meant   to   drop  his  wife  at  Gi- 


chap,  xix  CAPTAIN  AYLMER  247 

braltar,  and  let  her  establish  herself  there  while  he 
was  cruising  in  the  Mediterranean.  She  had  been 
enchanted  at  the  proposal,  without  quite  promising  to 
remain  contentedly  at  Gibraltar  if  he  was  to  go  into 
action  ;  but  at  any  rate  it  was  better  than  being  in 
England,  and  now  she  wanted  to  take  her  children. 
"  I  was  away  from  them  a  whole  year,  and  only  think 
of  their  growing  up  without  knowing  either  of  us  — 
poor  little  dears !  And  it  would  be  so  good  for  them 
after  the  whooping-cough  ! " 

"  Ah,  poor  things  !  Poor  mother !  Sailors'  wives 
have  sometimes  to  choose  between  husband  and  chil- 
dren !     What  do  you  say,  Carry  ?  " 

"I  want  my  husband,  and  my  children  want  me! 
Ah,  and  I  want  them  too  !     Can't  I  have  both  ?  " 

"  Well,  we  must  see  what  space  we  find  on  board 
the  Leopard,  and  what  my  mother  says,  —  yes,  and 
what  the  officers  may  think  of  a  nursery  on  board." 

"  Oh,  they  always  like  children.  Besides  it  is  only 
for  a  fortnight." 

The  Leopard  came  round  from  Portsmouth,  and 
proved  to  be  a  splendid  ship,  with  plenty  of  accommo- 
dation. As  soon,  however,  as  the  crew  were  paid  off, 
and  a  few  of  them  had  declared  their  willingness  to 
sail  again  with  their  captain  —  but  he  went  previously 
to  London  to  report  himself  to  the  Admiralty  —  Caro- 
line was  dropped  on  the  way  at  Exeter  to  cross  to 
Downford,  and  make  her  arrangements ;  and  Beaude- 
sert  remained  at  Plymouth  with  the  ship's  surgeon  to 
recruit. 

Old  Mrs.  Aylmer  was  very  averse  to  her  going  with 
her  husband,  and  still  more  to  her  taking  the  children, 
representing  that  Nancy  was  too  old  to  be  made  the 
pet  of  a  ship's  company,  and  to  have  her  education 


248  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

standing  still ;  and  reminding  Caroline  of  certain 
episodes  which  had  given  her  more  trouble  than  the 
young  lady  herself. 

But  Eustace  —  he  had  pined  for  his  mother  before, 
he  looked  as  if  he  would  pine  again,  he  was  a  delicate 
child,  and  the  cough  hung  about  him :  and  Caroline 
was  sure  that  the  southern  climate  would  be  good  for 
him.  When  his  father  came  home  for  three  days,  all 
that  he  could  allow  himself,  he  soon  decided  that  it 
would  be  best  to  take  the  boy  to  be  heartened  up,  and 
to  be  Caroline's  comfort  if  she  were  left  in  solitude 
at  Gibraltar ;  but  to  leave  the  little  girl  to  cheer  her 
grandmother,  and  "  sew  her  sampler." 

He  was  devotedly  attached  to  his  Caroline,  and  had 
loved  her  from  what  she  sometimes  called  her  "  reefer 
times  " ;  but  somehow  he  did  not  want  to  see  them  re- 
peated in  his  daughter,  and  Mrs.  Darpent  gave  him  her 
approval,  only  wishing  he  would  keep  her  niece  at  home. 
"  She  was  too  fond  of  gadding  about  in  foreign  parts." 

Caroline  was  considering  whether  to  take  Zelie,  or 
leave  her  to  attend  on  Madame  de  Henisson,  and  take 
the  whole  charge  of  the  little  boy,  when  Felicite  came 
to  her  room  with  the  entreaty,  "  Oh,  madame,  I  entreat 
you,  let  me  go  with  you  as  bonne  to  the  dear  little 
Eustace." 

"  You,  Felicite  ?  " 

"  Yes,  dear  madame,  I  entreat  you.  He  will  want  a 
bonne,  and  I  would  dress  him  and  teach  him,  and 
watch  over  him  when  you  are  occupied.  Think ;  I 
have  been  looking  at  the  map,  and  there  is  only  a 
stretch  of  sea  between  Gibraltar  and  Rome.  It  would 
be  so  far  on  my  way.  Oh,  I  entreat  you  !  —  you  who 
have  always  been  my  best  friend,  the  only  person  who 
gave  me  hope." 


chap,  xix  CAPTAIN  AYLMER  249 

To  which  Caroline  could  only  answer,  "We  must  see 
what  the  captain  says." 

The  captain  whistled,  then  said,  "  That  young  mam- 
selle,  is  it  ?  Poor  Beaude'sert's  love,  eh  ?  Well,  I'm 
not  the  man  to  hinder  the  course  of  true  love,  only  she 
must  not  hinder  him  from  putting  his  conductors,  or 
what  you  may  call  them,  in  order,  in  case  we  should 
fall  in  with  a  gale  of  wind  and  thunder.  Don't  let  'em 
be  philandering  together." 

"  Never  fear,  she  is  much  too  correct  a  person.  Be- 
sides, she  has  undertaken  to  look  after  Eustace." 

"  You  imagine  she  will,"  said  the  captain,  smiling. 

"  Of  course  I  do.  She  is  determined  enough,  as  I 
have  often  seen.  Besides,  he  has  me.  Ze'lie  is  really 
too  old,  and  a  young  nursemaid " 

Captain  Aylmer  held  up  his  hands  and  laughed  at 
the  notion  of  a  young  nurse.  So  Felicite  was  accepted ; 
though,  as  her  friends  observed,  the  way  to  Borne  was 
not  exactly  clear  from  French  ships  or  Algerian 
pirates. 

And  the  captain,  after  a  few  days  at  Downf ord,  went 
on  to  Plymouth,  to  be  followed  by  Caroline  and  little 
Eustace  with  Felicite  so  soon  as  he  was  ready  to  sail, 
in  fact  as  soon  as  he  had  done  his  press-gang  work. 
This  was  by  no  means  entirely  the  cruel  kidnapping  of 
peaceable  fishermen,  or  even  landsmen,  of  which  we 
are  told,  but  a  kind  of  hide-and-seek  with  veteran  sail- 
ors who  fully  meant  to  ship  again,  but  were  bent  on 
their  frolic  to  their  utmost,  and  made  it  a  matter  of 
honour  to  give  the  officers  as  much  trouble  as  possible. 
It  was  a  brutal  captain,  or  one  hard  pressed  for  men, 
who  would  not  listen  to  the  plea  of  being  unfairly  capt- 
ured ;  and  George  Aylmer  was  liked  enough  to  make 
up  his  crew  without  much  difficulty.     Thus  by  the  first 


250  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

week  in  November  he  was  able  to  summon  his  wife, 
child,  and  "  bonne  "  to  join  him,  as  well  as  Beaudesert, 
who  had  written  to  Georgia  to  explain  that  he  hoped 
to  come  out  in  the  spring,  when  the  working  of  the 
mines  would  begin.  Meantime  he  supplied  the  masts 
of  the  Leopard  with  lightning  conductors,  such  as  an- 
ticipated the  apparatus  with  which  the  navy  is  at 
present  supplied. 


CHAPTER  XX 

IN    THE    BAY    OF    BISCAY 

But  I  heard  on  the  gale  a  sound  of  wail, 
And  tears  came  to  my  eye. 

Uhland. 

Beaudesert's  conductor  had  a  trial  sooner  than  was 
expected,  for  a  terrible  storm  overtook  the  Leopard 
when  she  was  scarcely  beyond  the  Channel.  Of  course 
no  one  could  tell  where  lightning  would  have  fallen, 
but  it  was  all  in  a  blue  glare  round  the  ship ;  and  the 
boatswain  and  his  fellows,  who  had  been  most  averse 
to  "that  there  Frenchy's  conundrums,"  and  had  al- 
most thought  them  a  device  for  betraying  them  to 
the  enemy,  were  fain  to  confess  that  they  had  seen  the 
lightning  run  down  the  line  into  the  sea,  and  the 
mast  remained  unshattered.  The  captain  declared  that 
he  believed  it  owing  to  his  guest  that  he  was  not  put- 
ting into  Falmouth  for  repairs,  instead  of  beating  round 
Cape  Finisterre  a  good  deal  closer  than  he  wished. 

Caroline  saw  little  of  him  just  then.  She  was  too 
practised  a  seafarer  not  to  know  that  the  best  thing 
she  could  do  was  to  keep  out  of  the  way,  and  ask 
no  questions;  and  though  thunder  and  waves  roared 
fiercely  round  her,  and  she  was  dashed  about  the  cabin 
in  a  furious  manner  whenever  she  endeavoured  to 
change  her  position,  she  still  consoled  her  frightened 
251 


252  THE   RELEASE  fart  ii 

boy  and  the  still  more  frightened  Felicite  by  declar- 
ing that  if  there  were  pressing  danger  her  husband 
would  come  or  send.  Poor  Felicite  had  been  miserably 
ill  ever  since  they  had  passed  the  Sound,  and  was  pre- 
pared to  think  that  a  reluctant,  half-emancipated  nun 
was  a  kind  of  Jonah,  who  might  sink  the  ship  by  her 
guilt ;  and  Caroline  had  fairly  to  laugh  at  the  morbid 
fancy,  and  call  on  her  to  join  in  prayer. 

A  midshipman  was  sent  down  at  last  to  tell  the 
ladies  that  the  danger  from  the  storm  was  over,  and 
that  very  little  damage  had  been  done,  but  the  captain 
could  not  come,  as  they  had  been  driven  over  near  to 
the  rocks  of  Brittany,  and  all  his  seamanship  would 
be  needful  to  prevent  being  wrecked,  or  driven  into 
the  jaws  of  the  French.  The  lad  told  Mrs.  Aylmer  so 
in  an  important  whisper,  and  it  made  her  shudder 
with  the  thought  of  the  fight,  possibly  unequal,  and 
the  peril  to  the  two  fellow-travellers. 

However,  the  gale  did  not  cease  with  the  tempest, 
and  the  same  wind  that  blew  them  towards  Brest 
hindered  French  ships  from  coming  out ;  while  it  kept 
poor  Felicite  a  wretched  captive  to  her  berth,  all  over 
bruises.  Eustace,  in  his  mother's  arms,  had  fared 
better,  and  was  fast  asleep  when  his  father  came  down 
with  news  that  the  worst  was  over,  and  though  the 
sea  was  rough  the  wind  had  veered  round,  and  they 
were  scudding  merrily  before  the  breeze,  and  he  should 
be  glad  if  they  were  past  the  mouth  of  the  Loire 
before  daylight,  as  no  one  could  tell  what  vessels 
might  be  lying  off  Nantes,  and  they  were  too  near  to 
the  coast.  When  the  tide  turned,  the  current  of  the 
Loire  would  not  help  them,  so  he  was  crowding  on  all 
sail. 

Daylight  had  come ;  and  Caroline  ventured  on  deck, 


chap,  xx  IN   THE   BAY   OF   BISCAY  253 

carrying  her  weary,  sleepy  little  boy  for  a  breath  of 
fresh  air.  His  father  came  to  meet  her,  and  took  the 
child  in  his  arms,  while  he  said,  "  Very  good,  Carry, 
yon  have  learnt  to  be  a  sailor's  wife." 

"  It  was  very  dreadful,  but  I  had  to  be  comforting 
poor  Felicite,  and  could  not  think  about  myself,"  said 
Caroline,  as  she  leant  against  the  bulwark. 

"  And  this  young  reefer,  too,"  said  the  captain. 
"  AYhat  do  you  think  of  the  white  horses,  sir  ?  " 

"  I  don't  see  their  faces,  papa,"  said  the  boy.  "  I 
wish  they  wouldn't  jump  up  and  doAvn  so,  and  shake 
the  ship." 

"  They  must,  my  man,  till  we  get  beyond  the  Bay 
of  Biscay,  oh  !  So  much  the  better,  or  we  should  have 
you  flattening  that  little  nose  against  the  bars  of  a 
French  prison." 

"  Is  that  France,  or  is  it  a  fog-bank  ?  "  asked  Carry, 
as  the  sun  rose  in  his  glory  above  a  grey  outline. 

"  France  it  is,  bad  luck  to  it,  and  I'd  fain  give  it  a 
wider  berth."  Then  followed  some  shouted  orders, 
and  "  Aye,  aye,  sir  !  "  and  the  like,  and  a  cry  from  the 
masthead,  "  Boat  astern !  " 

Eyes  and  glasses  were  directed  in  the  direction, 
where  a  speck  was  seen  tossing  on  the  waves,  appar- 
ently carried  helplessly  outwards  between  the  ebbing 
tide  and  the  current  of  the  river. 

"  From  a  wreck  !  "  said  some. 

"  Shall  we  lower  a  boat  ?  "  said  the  first  lieutenant. 

The  chances  were  for  a  moment  debated.  The  ship 
must  lie  to,  to  enable  the  boat  to  examine  the  forsaken 
fragment  and  then  overtake  the  ship  again;  and  to 
tarry  so  near  off  the  French  coast  involved  peril. 

"  And  all  for  the  sake  of  a  brutal  murderer  of  a 
Frenchy,"  as  the  sailors  murmured. 


254  THE  RELEASE  part  ii 

But  Captain  Aylmer  -would  not  hear.  He  had  con- 
fidence in  his  Leopard  and  her  crew,  and  he  remem- 
bered that  the  good  Samaritan  had  tarried  within 
reach  of  the  robbers ;  so  the  boat  was  sent  off  under 
the  command  of  the  second  lieutenant,  and  anxious 
wrere  the  eyes  that  watched  it,  while  the  motion  of  the 
ship  made  Eustace  complain  that  she  jumped  more 
than  ever,  and  his  father  had  to  carry  him  up  and 
down.  Eising  on  the  crests  of  the  billows,  then  disap- 
pearing, the  boat  made  its  way,  evenly  in  the  midst 
of  the  swell,  and  by  and  by  the  glasses  disclosed  that 
the  rescue  party  had  reached  the  broken  shattered 
remnant,  reduced  almost  to  a  spar,  and  that  a  figure 
was  being,  with  great  difficulty,  lifted  from  it,  and  lay 
prone  at  the  bottom  of  the  boat.  Then  rowing  swiftly, 
the  return  was  made  —  Beaudesert,  who  had  come  on 
deck  on  the  report  of  wrhat  was  passing,  forgetting  all 
his  "mal  de  mer"  in  the  intense  interest  of  watching 
the  arrival. 

"He's  alive,  sir,"  shouted  the  lieutenant;  " unless 
he  died  after  we  picked  him  up,"  he  added  anxiously, 
for  the  figure,  that  of  an  elderly  man,  with  ragged 
grey  hair,  and  a  still  more  ragged  black  dress,  was 
quite  helpless,  and  the  face  deadly  white,  the  eyes 
closed,  when  hoisted  up  and  laid  on  the  deck.  The 
surgeon  called  for  spirits,  Caroline  chafed  the  hands, 
Beaudesert  raised  the  head.  "  Here  are  signs  of  the 
tonsure,"  he  said ;  "  it  is  a  priest." 

The  spirits  were  put  between  the  pale  lips,  it  was 
swallowed  in  part,  and  the  first  murmur  was  —  "  De 
profundis  clamavi." 

"  Ah ! "  said  Beaudesert,  "  you  need  not  fear  that 
he  is  a  Jacobin.     He  is  nearer  being  a  martyr." 

The  poor  priest,  under  the  tender  hands  of  the  lady 


chap,  xx  IN   THE   BAY   OF   BISCAY  255 

and  Beaudesert,  and  the  somewhat  ruder  ministrations 
of  the  surgeon,  a  rough-and-ready  fellow,  presently 
murmured  again,  "In  mantis  tuas"  but  after  another 
interval  opened  his  eyes,  and  looking  round  in  utter 
confusion,  said,  "  It  is  not  paradise !  " 

"  No,  not  yet,  mon  p&re"  returned  Beaudesert.  "  It 
is  an  English  ship,  where  you  are  safe." 

"  Ah,  it  is  a  miracle  —  praise  and  thanks  !  " 

They  carried  him  to  a  berth,  and  changed  his 
clothes,  giving  him  food  as  he  could  bear  it,  and  re- 
fraining from  questions  till  he  had  slept. 

It  was  not  till  the  next  morning,  when  the  sea  had 
subsided,  and  the  Leopard  had  recovered  the  ordinary 
bearings,  that  Beaudesert  came  into  the  state-cabin, 
where  breakfast  was  laid,  and  to  the  inquiries  for  his 
patient,  replied,  "  He  will  be  here  in  a  few  moments. 
He  is  the  Abbe  Casaforte,  originally  from  Antibes, 
but  on  a  mission  to  Xantes,  where  he  has  undergone 
even  more  horrible  cruelty  than  I  had  heard  of  yet  at 
the  hands  of  my  miserable  countrymen.  He  is  deliv- 
ered by  a  true  miracle.  Shall  I  present  him  to  you, 
madame  ?  " 

"  Is  he  enough  recovered  ?  " 

"  He  wishes  to  come.  I  have  dressed  him  as  best  I 
might,  but  he  is  very  weak,  and  much  exhausted.  I 
have  not  heard  all  his  story,  but  there  must  have  been 
frightful  atrocities  at  Nantes.  He  had  broken  sleep 
at  first,  muttering  fragments  of  the  prayers  for  the 
dying,  and  names  of  others." 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  with  the  word 
"benedicite"  there  came  forward  an  elderly  man,  pale, 
haggard,  and  wasted,  his  limbs  trembling,  and  his  white 
hair  trimmed  (after  Beaudesert's  best  abilities)  into  the 
clerical  tonsure,  his  dress  an  adaptation  of  Beaudesert's. 


266  THE   RELEASE  part  u 

All  rose  in  reverence  to  misfortune,  and  Felicite  threw 
herself  on  her  knees  to  crave  his  blessing,  and  long, 
worn,  bony  fingers  were  held  over  her  head.  "  Thanks 
to  God,  I  am  among  the  faithful !  Ah,  sir !  ah,  ma- 
dame  !  how  shall  I  express  my  gratitude  ?  " 

"  Let  that  pass,"  said  the  captain.  "  Make  him  sit 
down,  Carry ;  tell  him  he  is  the  best  prize  I  could 
have  taken  in  these  waters,  and  it  is  we  that  are 
thankful." 

The  two  ladies,  with  ready  tender  words,  persuaded 
him  to  sit  in  the  easiest  chair,  and  drink  a  cup  of 
coffee  before  he  attempted  to  say  more  than  some- 
thing about  a  true  miracle.  Beaudesert,  who  knew 
a  little  more,  then  said,  "  Monsieur  1' Abbe  tells  us  of 
the  utter  overthrow  of  the  loyalists  in  La  Vendee." 

"  I  feared  they  would  never  stand  against  regular 
troops,"  returned  the  captain. 

"  No,  truly ;  save  for  their  noble  devotion  we  should 
call  it  madness,"  said  Beaudesert. 

"The  madness  of  saints,"  said  the  priest,  under- 
standing his  words  in  part.  "Ah,  you  should  have 
seen  them  and  watched  them,  Lescure,  La  Boche- 
jacquelein,  Bonchamp,  Cathelineau — true  martyrs." 

"  You  were  among  them,  Father  ?  "  ventured  Felicite'. 

"I  was  sent  on  a  message  of  encouragement  from 
the  Holy  Father  to  the  resolute  clergy,"  replied  the 
Abbe.  "I  have  the  honour  to  be  secretary  to  Mon- 
signore  della  Crusca,  and  as  French  is  native  to  me,  I 
was  selected,  and  thus  witnessed  heroic  courage  and 
piety  worthy  of  the  first  ages  of  the  Church." 

"  And  you  were  taken,  monsieur  ? "  asked  Mrs. 
Aylmer. 

"Yes,  inadame,  the  Blues  surrounded  the  village 
where  we  had  taken  refuge,  and  we  surrendered  in 


chap,  xx  IX   THE    BAY   OF   BISCAY  257 

hopes  of  obtaining  mercy  for  the  women  and  children. 
Alas,  no !  We  could  hardly  give  them  absolution  be- 
fore they  were  mowed  down  by  the  muskets,  the  little 
innocents  in  their  mothers'  arms  !  Ah,  they  are  with 
the  Babe  of  Bethlehem !  We  were  marched  with  hands 
tied  together  to  Nantes,  and  there  thrown  into  a  loath- 
some vault  beneath  a  church,  where  hundreds  of  us 
pined  in  misery  till  there  came  down  from  Paris  an 
executioner  rather  than  a  commissioner  —  one  Carrier. 
He  devised  a  readier  way  than  even  the  guillotine  of 
ridding  the  prisons  of  their  population.  There  was 
no  tribunal.  We  were  simply  taken  out  in  boats  upon 
the  Loire,  tied  together,  a  plank  was  removed,  a  door 
opened,  and  there  we  were  !  I  was  one  of  a  troop  of 
ninety-four  thus  disposed  of !  " 

"  The  fiend ! n  cried  Captain  Aylmer,  as  he  under- 
stood. 

"  The  monster  !  "  exclaimed  Caroline. 

"Ah  !  rather  say  the  miserable  given  up  to  demons," 
said  the  victim. 

"  But  how  did  you  escape,  Father  ?  "  asked  Felicite. 

"  At  Antibes  the  boys  are  well-nigh  amphibious.  I 
am  the  son  of  a  trader  between  that  port  and  Genoa, 
and  I  had  not  forgotten  my  old  powers  of  diving  and 
swimming.  We  were  taken  out  at  night,  as  many  as 
the  boat  was  able  to  hold,  whispering  absolution  to 
one  another,  while  our  guards  blasphemed.  God  for- 
give them;  they  knew  not  what  they  said.  A  dear 
brother  was  with  me ;  we  exchanged  a  kiss ;  we  were 
the  last  in  our  boat.  No  doubt  the  ropes  were  used 
up;  ours  was  rotten,  and  broke  even  as  we  fell.  The 
water  restored  my  old  instincts.  I  let  myself  sink, 
and  swam  on  as  far  as  I  could  under  water,  then 
floated  so  as  to  be  ^distinguishable  from  the  bodies 


258  THE    RELEASE  part  ii 

that,  alas  !  likewise  floated.  It  was  night,  and  by  the 
time  my  strength  was  exhausted  I  was  beyond  the 
environs  of  Nantes.  I  landed  on  the  other  bank,  and 
by  and  by  Heaven  guided  me  to  the  hovel  of  a  good 
Bretonne  woman,  who  gave  me  food  and  sheltered  me  ; 
but  the  Blues  were  apt  to  search  her  house.  She 
could  not  keep  me,  but  she  showed  me  where  lay  the 
broken  remains  of  a  boat,  which,  by  the  help  of  a 
couple  of  old  oars,  might  carry  me  down  the  river  — 
perhaps  to  a  fisher's  boat,  perhaps  to  the  dwellings  of 
merciful  folk.  I  drifted  on,  but  no  sooner  had  I 
reached  the  sea  than  the  tempest  came  on.  My  oars, 
already  frail,  were  broken  and  swept  from  me.  I  was 
tossed  hither  and  thither,  and  gave  myself  up  for  lost ; 
yet  by  divine  mercy  the  boat  did  not  fill,  and  kept 
afloat  till  the  weather  calmed,  but  I  was  past  knowing 
when  or  how.  M.  le  Capitaine's  goodness  and  cour- 
age completed  the  miracle  of  my  safety.  Oh,  for 
what  can  God  reserve  me  among  so  many?" 

It  was  known  later  that  among  the  thousands,  liter- 
ally thousands,  who  perished  in  the  noyades  of  Carrier 
at  Nantes,  men,  women,  and  children  alike,  only  one 
was  known  to  have  escaped  or  half  escaped,  a  priest 
named  Brianceau,  who  swam  out  like  Casaforte, 
reached  land,  but  was  given  up  by  the  wretched  peas- 
ants to  the  murderers,  who  threw  him  in  again  with 
his  hands  cut  off,  to  prevent  his  being  able  to  swim. 


CHAPTER   XXI 

THE    PRIORESS'S    TALE 

Ever  as  Earth's  wild  war-cries  heighten, 
The  Cross  upon  the  brow  will  brighten. 


Keble. 


Casaforte's  history  was  listened  to  with  tears  of 
burning  indignation  and  sympathy,  such  as  could  only 
find  utterance  in  such  words  as  Milton's  — 

Avenge,  0  Lord,  thy  slaughtered  saints,  whose  bones 
Lie  scattered  on  the  Alpine  mountains  cold. 

Caroline  and  Felicite  longed  to  get  farther  out  on  the 
Atlantic,  always  imagining  that  dead  corpses  might 
be  washed  up  against  the  ship ;  and  the  Abbe  spent  all 
his  time  in  prayer  for  his  brethren  who  might  still  be 
perishing  at  the  ferocious  hands  of  the  boatmen  and 
the  cruel  behest  of  Carrier. 

All  his  own  books  and  clothes  had  been  taken  from 
him,  and  he  was  glad  to  borrow  Felicite's  breviary. 
He  also  asked,  with  some  apologies,  if  madame  had 
not  an  English  Bible.  He  could  read  very  little  Eng- 
lish himself,  though  it  appeared  that  he  had  been  at 
one  time  in  the  establishment  of  Cardinal  de  York,  or 
as  he  said  with  a  smile,  Henry  IX.  of  England,  though 
the  good  old  gentleman  never  allowed  himself  to  be 
called  by  that  title. 

What  the  priest  wanted  was  to  have  the  terrible 
tenth  chapter  of  Ezekiel  found  for  him,  and  where 
259 


260  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

the  angel  with  the  inkhorn  marks  those  who  are  not 
delivered  to  those  with  the  slaughter  weapon.  He 
could  not  read  the  English,  but  Caroline  translated  it 
to  him.  He  clasped  his  hands  and  said,  "  Ah,  verily, 
it  is  as  though  the  angels  with  the  weapons  of  death 
had  been  let  loose  in  our  miserable  country ;  and  who 
am  I,  and  for  what  am  I  reserved  by  God,  that  I 
should  be  saved  alive  out  of  so  many  ?  I  know  not 
that  I  have  grieved  at  popular  sins  more  than  they." 

The  fact  seemed  especially  to  overcome  him;  he 
could  not  believe  himself  anything  like  so  good  a 
man  as  some  of  the  victims,  and  then  he  thought  him- 
self unworthy  to  be  a  martyr  like  them,  and  hoped 
that  he  should  do  some  future  work,  if  he  did  not  win 
a  crown  like  theirs. 

He  spent  all  the  time  he  could  in  prayer,  and 
Felicite  often  joined  in  his  devotions,  and  Beaudesert 
likewise  once  a  day.  When  he  joined  the  company 
in  the  state-cabin  he  showed  himself  a  thoroughly 
agreeable  man  of  the  world,  full  of  conversation,  and 
trying  to  keep  from  recalling  too  many  melancholy 
recollections  of  the  noble  loyalists  of  La  Vendee  and 
their  fate. 

Ere  long  he  knew  the  whole  past  history  of  Beau- 
desert  and  Felicite,  backed  by  the  captain's  declara- 
tion that  he  believed  the  safety  of  his  ship  to  be  owing 
to  the  former,  for  had  not  the  boatswain,  the  chief 
grumbler  against  "  that  there  Frenchy  with  his  devil- 
ments," sworn  that  he  had  seen  the  blue-forked  flame 
light  a-top  of  the  flagstaff,  and  instead  of  shattering 
the  mast,  run  down  bodily  into  the  sea  ?  "  As  to  the 
Mounseer  having  whistled  up  the  storm,  don't  talk  to 
me !  "  Thus  the  captain  was  anxious  to  do  anything 
for  Beaudesert,  and  the  Abbe  Casaforte  was  equally 


chap,  xxi  THE   PRIORESS'S  TALE  261 

ready  to  do  anything  for  the  captain.  In  fact  he  took 
such  interest  in  the  story,  and  showed  so  much  sym- 
pathy, that  Caroline  could  not  help  guessing  that  dis- 
appointment in  some  such  love-story  might  have  had 
its  part  in  making  a  priest  of  the  amphibious  son  of 
the  skipper  of  Antibes. 

On  arriving  at  the  Lion  Rock  of  Gibraltar  the  first 
news  that  the  Leopard  met  was  disappointing.  New 
vigour  and  strategy  had  been  developed  by  the  Jaco- 
bin besiegers  of  loyal  Toulon,  under  the  guidance,  in 
fact,  of  that  rising  young  captain  of  artillery,  Napo- 
leon Bonaparte.  Point  Grasse  had  been  seized,  and 
the  fire  thence  so  directed  that  the  allied  fleets  —  Eng- 
lish, Spanish,  and  Neapolitan  —  had  been  obliged  to 
retreat,  after  blowing  up  as  much  as  possible  of  the 
fortifications,  and  trying  to  destroy  the  French  fleet. 

Every  one  in  the  English  service  was  absolutely 
convinced  that  it  was  all  the  fault  of  the  chicken- 
hearted  Spaniards.  Perhaps  they  were  not  far  wrong; 
but  plentiful  abuse  was  showered  on  the  allies  in  the 
little  house  on  the  slope  of  the  hill  where  Caroline 
Aylmer  had  taken  her  boy  and  Felicite,  while  the 
Leopard  was  refitting  after  the  storm,  which  had  tried 
her  severely,  and  waiting  for  further  orders  from 
Admiral  Lord  Hood. 

Naval  and  military  society  gathered  there,  much  to 
her  enjoyment,  and  every  day  vessels  were  coming  in 
with  reports  of  the  siege,  and  with  freights  of  fugitives 
from  Toulon,  where  15,000  persons,  who  could  reason- 
ably believe  themselves  to  be  obnoxious  to  the  Com- 
mittee of  Public  Safety  (i.e.  of  public  desolation),  had 
been  embarked  on  board  the  allied  fleets.  The  victors, 
however,  were  not  to  be  balked  of  slaughter,  and  killed 
promiscuously  on  their  bursting  into  the  city,  begin- 


202  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

ning  with  two  or  three  hundred  Jacobins,  who  had 
come  out  in  procession  to  receive  them. 

It  was  very  difficult  to  dispose  of  such  numbers  of 
fugitives.  Savoy  was  far  from  safe,  and  the  most 
part  were  landed  in  Spain  or  Naples,  for  Genoa  and 
Tuscany  were  divided  between  mortal  fear  and  sym- 
pathy with  the  Eevolution;  and  wherever  the  poor 
creatures  went,  it  was  destitution  to  once  prosperous 
families. 

One  day  Captain  Aylmer  brought  up  with  him  a 
friend,  saying  that  he  had  a  request  to  make.  "I 
understand,"  said  the  sailor,  "that  you  speak  French 
as  easily  as  English." 

"  Certainly,  I  was  educated  in  a  French  convent." 

"  Then  you  would  be  able  to  speak  to  my  poor  pas- 
sengers. I  brought  away  three  of  them  at  the  last  — 
born  ladies  by  the  cut  of  their  jib  —  just  in  time,  for 
their  house  had  a  mine  under  it ;  but  I  cannot  for  the 
life  of  me  understand  what  they  want.  One  points  to 
England  on  the  map,  and  another  to  Eome,  and  that's 
the  utmost  I  can  make  out ! " 

Caroline  gladly  undertook  to  solve  the  good  com- 
mander's perplexity,  and  presently  was  enjoying  the 
motion  she  professed  to  like  above  all,  the  measured 
beat  of  the  sailors'  oars,  wafting  her  over  the  smooth 
waves  of  the  harbour,  while  she  listened  to  the  ever- 
repeated  tale  of  the  inefficiency  of  the  Spaniards. 

"  Well  done,  madam.  Plain  to  see  you  are  a  sailor's 
daughter,"  laughed  the  commander,  as  she  sprang  up 
the  side  of  the  Woodcock  without  assistance,  followed 
by  her  husband  and  himself.  In  another  minute  he 
had  introduced  her  into  what  was  properly  his  own 
cabin,  now  given  up  to  the  three  ladies  who  rose 
politely  at  her  entrance.     Behold,  in  one  of  them  she 


chap,  xxi  THE   PRIORESS'S   TALE  263 

saw  the  Prioress  of  Ste.  Lucie!  There  was  a  cry  of 
delight  on  both  sides,  and  they  flew  into  each  other's 
arms,  both  sobbing  for  joy  and  grief  together. 

"  Old  friends,  it  seems,"  observed  the  two  captains, 
hastily  retreating. 

"  0  ma  mere,  ma  bonne  m&re  reverende!"  cried  Caro- 
line. "How  little  I  ever  thought  to  see  you  again! 
Is  Soeur  Franchise  here  ?  " 

"Alas!  no;  she  is  with  the  saints,  la  Men  heureuse. 
These  are  my  cousins  at  Toulon,  Madame  de  Jolimont, 
Mademoiselle  de  Fremont.  Let  me  present  Mistress 
Aylmer."  They  curtseyed,  as  in  convent  days,  and  the 
Prioress  eagerly  asked  for  the  other  sisters. 

"  All  well :  the  two  mothers  are  with  Catholic  friends 
in  England ;  Felicite  is  here  at  Gibraltar  with  me." 

"The  good  God  be  praised  who  has  left  us  a  rem- 
nant ;  and  our  good  father,  the  Abbe',  did  he  escape  ?  " 

Caroline  told  of  his  arrival  at  Downford,  but  then 
asked  eagerly  how  the  Prioress  had  come  to  this  place 
of  safety.  She  looked  sadly  aged  and  worn,  and  wore 
no  remnant  of  a  monastic  habit;  though  her  dress, 
very  shabby  and  stained  like  that  of  her  friends',  was 
the  costume  of  a  lady. 

She  told  what  was  known  already,  of  the  death  of 
Mere  de  St.  Dominique,  and  then  of  her  own  attempt 
with  Soeur  Franchise  to  reach  Anjou.  "There  is  no 
telling  how  brave  and  good  she  was.  She  looked  rav- 
ishing in  her  peasant's  dress,  her  little  short  curls 
peeping  out  under  her  white  cap,  and  her  figure  like 
that  of  one  of  the  shepherdesses  of  Watteau,  only  that 
her  face  was  more  and  more  like  that  of  a  saint ;  and 
she  was  always  cheerful  and  joyous,  treating  all  our 
little  adventures  as  matters  of  mirth,  and  keeping  up 
my  courage  with  her  unfailing  hope.     Ah !  it  was  not 


264  THE    RELEASE  part  ii 

hope  of  anything  here  below  that  inspired  her;  yet 
how  merry  she  was  when  that  old  peasant  offered  us 
a  ride  in  his  rough  country  cart.  While  I  could  only 
think  how  my  poor  bones  were  shaken,  so  that  my 
teeth  might  almost  fall  out,  there  was  she  making 
friends  with  him  and  learning  the  names  of  all  his 
grandchildren!  That  night  we  slept  in  his  cottage, 
and  were  treated  with  distinguished  care  by  his 
daughter-in-law;  but  on  the  next  night  we  were  less 
happy.  I  fear  our  disguise  was  too  easily  penetrated, 
for  as  we  sat  outside  a  little  country  cabaret,  eat- 
ing our  bread  and  drinking  wine  under  the  vine, 
two  fellows  in  red  caps  came  out  and  denounced  us 
as  ci-de rants  attempting  to  emigrate.  We  had  no 
passports  to  show,  and  a  gen  cV amies  was  called,  who 
took  us  in  a  cart  rougher  still  to  Chartres,  and  there 
accused  us;  and  we  were  sent  back  to  Paris,  and 
thrown  into  the  Luxembourg — Francoise  all  the  time, 
as  bright  as  could  be,  almost  disarming  our  guards 
by  her  good-humoured  submission.  '  Comment  V  said 
one.  'Other  women  weep  and  lament,  and  give  as 
much  trouble  as  possible,  but  you,  citoyenne  (he  tutoyed 
her,  the  wretch),  have  taken  it  all  in  good  part.' 

"  '  And  why  not  ? '  she  asked ;  '  you  do  not  want  to 
hurt  us,  monsieur;  you  are  too  good;  you  are  only 
obeying  orders,  and  doing  y our  duty.' 

"  The  poor  man  muttered  his  doubts  whether  it  were 
his  duty,  and  consoled  himself  and  us  by  declaring 
that  our  detention  could  only  last  a  short  time,  till 
the  Convention  were  convinced  that  we  were  harmless. 

"  So,  indeed,  we  believed  at  the  time,  little  imagin- 
insr  that  the  monsters  who  had  tasted  blood  were  about 

o 

to  revel  in  it.  He  became  very  friendly  to  us ;  and 
Soeur  Francoise,  finding  that  he  had  a  bad  hurt   on 


chap,  xxi  THE   PEIORESS'S   TALE  265 

one  arm  from  a  bite  of  the  horse,  which  was  getting 
much  inflamed  and  very  sore,  undertook  to  bathe  and 
dress  it,  with  some  help  and  direction  from  me,  made 
a  poultice  for  it  at  night,  and  gave  him  infinite  relief, 
so  that  he  declared  that  '  la  petite,-  as  he  always  called 
her,  ought  to  have  been  a  poor  man's  wife  or  a  sister 
of  charity.  When  he  gave  us  up  to  the  authorities, 
such  as  they  are,  at  Paris,  he  told  us  to  reckon  on  him 
if  he  could  do  anything  for  us. 

"We  found  ourselves  in  the  old  palace  of  the 
Luxembourg,  converted  into  a  prison,  and  full  of  the 
most  noble  —  the  Duchess  de  Tarente,  Monsieur  and 
Mademoiselle  de  Cazotte,  with  many  ladies  and  priests  ; 
and  we  were  not  ill-treated,  and  were  glad  to  be  with 
friends.  We  were  too  much  crowded,  five  or  even 
ten  ladies  in  one  room,  and  the  air  in  these  summer 
months  was  most  oppressive  and  very  foul,  so  that 
there  was  much  illness.  Sceur  Francoise  attended 
those  who  were  sick  most  tenderly,  and  filled  them 
with  her  own  resignation  and  even  gladness.  She 
loved  to  tell  them  of  St.  Perpetua  and  other  blessed 
saints,  in  whose  steps  she  said  it  was  granted  to  us 
to  tread.  For  rumours  reached  us  of  the  arrival  of 
the  Marseillais  tigers,  and  there  were  whispers  that 
something  dreadful  was  intended.  The  jailer,  who 
had  been  good  to  us,  removed  his  wife  and  children 
from  the  prison.  We  all  prepared  for  death  before 
the  priests.  Dinner  was  served  to  us  earlier  than 
usual.  You  may  imagine  what  appetite  we  had  for 
it;  and  when  we  had  done,  all  the  knives  and  forks 
were  taken  away.  Then  began  sounds  of  the  tocsin, 
and  horrid  shouts  and  howls  in  the  streets.  The  turn- 
keys said  that  the  people  were  trying  to  force  the 
gates ;  but  it  was  three  hours  before  they  succeeded. 


266  THE   KELEASE  part  u 

A  good  priest  collected  some  of  us  round  him,  and 
chanted  the  Miserere  and  other  psalms  as  for  the 
dying.  How  sweetly  Franchise's  voice  sounded  in 
the  responses !  As  evening  fell  all  the  women  were 
separated  from  the  men,  and  shut  into  one  large  room ; 
but  through  the  windows  we  heard  savage  roars  and 
howls,  mixed  with  cries  and  groans.  The  jailer  told 
us  that  he  had  been  obliged  to  abandon  some  of  the 
priests  to  the  fury  of  the  Marseillais  in  order  to  slake 
their  thirst. 

"  '  Our  holy  fathers  ! '  we  cried. 

"  i  Let  us  sing  of  their  triumph ! '  exclaimed  Fran- 
chise, and  she  began  to  sing  — 

Caelestis  0  Jerusalem, 
Mansura  semper  civitas, 
O  ter  beati  quse  tuis 
Cives  reconditi  mcenibus. 

"You  know  how  she  loved  those  hymns  in  the 
breviary,  and  the  sweet  young  voice  went  on,  verse 
after  verse,  through  all  the  terrible  sounds,  and  the 
shrieks  and  sobs  of  the  women  within.  She  only 
paused  to  go  and  try  to  soothe  a  poor  lady  whose 
brother  had  been  called  out  to  the  slaughterers,  and 
as  she  looked  up  and  declared  that  she  knew  the 
angels  were  flocking  to  bear  away  the  happy  spirits, 
her  face  was  as  the  face  of  one  of  them.  At  first 
we  thought  the  women  safe,  and  that  it  was  only  the 
priests  and  gentlemen  who  were  dying  on  the  plea  of 
conspiring  with  the  emigrant  army.  Alas  !  by  and  by 
names  of  ladies  were  called,  and  mine  came  at  last, 
my  own  original  name,  which  I  hardly  recognised, 
Franchise  de  St.  Luc.  My  dear  daughter  clung  to 
me,  whether   mistaking   really  or  wilfully  I  cannot 


chap,  xxi  THE   PRIORESS'S   TALE  267 

tell.  I  bade  her  go  back  into  the  hall,  but  she  said, 
'  No,  no  —  with  you,  with  you,  mother ' ;  and  linked 
her  arm  in  mine  as  we  were  hurried  along  between 
men  armed  with  sabres  and  pikes,  along  a  dark  entry 
to  the  turnkey's  chamber,  where  behind  a  table  sat  a 
man  stained  with  blood,  ferocious-looking  beyond  de- 
scription, who  demanded  our  names  and  occupations. 
As  we  answered,  he  howled  at  us,  'Maintainers  of 
unnatural  superstition!  About  to  join  the  enemy, 
traitors  to  liberty  and  their  country ! '  Something 
we  said  in  answer  of  having  refused  to  leave  the 
country  because  we  were  attending  a  dying  sister; 
but  he  shouted  us  down,  and  cried,  '  Go,  go  back ! 
Push  them  out.' 

"  But  another  voice,  close  to  my  ear,  said,  '  No,  no. 
That  is  destruction  !  I  will  get  you  through.  Come, 
petite.''  Then  I  knew  it  was  the  friendly  gen  cVarmes. 
I  clung  to  him  and  shut  my  eyes  to  avoid  the  horrible 
visages,  and  the  weapons  streaming  with  blood.  We 
struggled  through,  I  know  not  how,  only  that  I  hung 
upon  his  arm,  and  heard  him  answer  one  after  another 
who  pushed  against  us,  till,  after  a  final  crush,  we  were 
in  the  open  street,  and  then — 0  heavens!  —  I  was  alone 
with  him.  I  cried  out,  '  My  child,  my  daughter  ! '  I 
heard  him  say  '  Hein!  it  is  not  la  petite.''  I  believe  I 
fainted.  I  think  he  carried  me  into  a  back  street,  for 
when  I  came  to  myself  an  old  woman  was  bending  over 
me,  sprinkling  me  with  water.  It  was  a  cellar,  scarcely 
lighted,  for  the  shutters  were  shut  to  keep  out  the  ter- 
rible sounds.  She  told  me  that  Jean  was  gone  back  to 
endeavour  to  save  the  other,  but  —  oh,  it  was  too  late ! 
Sick  with  horror  I  lay  on  the  floor  till  the  good  man 
returned,  and  striking  his  forehead  cried,  '  Too  late ! 
too   late  !     Alas,  the   angel ! '     Then  when  he  could 


268  THE   RELEASE  part  11 

speak,  he  told  how,  in  the  thickest  of  the  crush  in  the 
passage,  near  the  fatal  door,  he  heard  a  voice  say,  ;  It 
cannot  be  both.  Take  her.  I  follow.'  He  thought 
it  was  I  who  spoke,  as  indeed  it  should  have  been.  I 
blame  myself  for  ever,  but  I  was  hardly  conscious. 
She  had  turned  aside,  she  let  herself  be  dragged  into 
that  dreadful  court.  There  the  angels  were  waiting 
for  her,  there  she  fell  beneath  those  pikes."  The  Pri- 
oress sobbed  so  much  that  she  could  not  speak,  and 
Caroline  wept  with  her  over  the  sweet  life  so  heroi- 
cally closed  in  the  true  spirit  of  martyrdom.  How 
little  had  they  thought  when  they  heard  her  vows  that 
they  would  be  so  fulfilled. 

When  the  Prioress  was  able  to  finish  her  history, 
she  said  that  after  the  massacres  of  September  there 
was  a  comparative  pause,  and  the  old  woman,  the 
mother  of  the  gen  cVarmes,  had  been  able  to  conduct  her 
in  tolerable  security  to  a  house  where  her  daughter 
and  her  husband  were  left  as  concierges.  They  shel- 
tered her  for  a  few  days,  and  as  she  had  decided  on 
going  to  Toulon,  where  she  had  relations,  they  helped 
her  to  the  dress  of  a  bourgeoise,  and  obtained  a  pass 
for  her  in  that  character,  sending  her  off  by  diligence. 
She  had  never  been  stripped  of  the  means  that  she  had 
secured  in  the  break-up  of  the  convent,  and  these  were 
honest  people,  shocked  at  the  atrocities  around  them. 
Her  friends  at  Toulon  made  her  welcome,  and  she  had 
lived  with  them  and  shared  in  the  reaction  of  the 
south  against  the  cruelties  of  the  north.  Then  had 
come  the  savage  vindictive  ire  of  the  Parisians,  when 
Couthon  wreaked  his  ruthless  fury  upon  Lyons,  and 
Toulon  trembled  at  the  frightful  reports,  and  the  decree 
that  all  who  resisted  the  republic  must  perish.  The 
help  of  the  allied  fleets  was  accepted,  but  had  not 


chap,  xxi  THE   PRIORESS'S   TALE  269 

proved  as  effectual  as  was  hoped ;  and  when  the  be- 
sieging army  of  "patriots"  was  directed  by  what 
proved  to  be  a  master  hand,  hope  failed,  and  there 
was  nothing  to  be  done  but  to  embark  all  those  who 
were  in  any  special  danger  in  the  allied  fleets,  hoping 
that  the  rest  might  be  spared.  The  Prioress  and  her 
two  cousins,  having  no  man  to  protect  them,  had 
nearly  been  crowded  out  of  the  boats  taking  out  the 
fugitives,  and  had  only  at  the  last  moment  been 
brought  on  board  the  Woodcock. 


CHAPTER   XXII 


GIBRALTAR 


Yet  nothing  stern  was  she  in  cell, 
And  the  nuns  loved  their  Abbess  well. 

Scott. 

It  was  necessary  to  dispose  of  the  three  ladies  on 
shore,  and  as  there  was  a  Spanish  nunnery  not  far 
from  the  lines,  it  was  decided  that  they  should  seek 
shelter  there.  Caroline  much  wished  to  keep  the 
Prioress,  but  she  felt  sure  that  as  she  belonged  to  the 
same  order  of  sisters,  her  presence  would  be  needful 
as  an  introduction.  Caroline  promised  to  bring  Sceur 
Philomene,  as  the  mother  still  called  Pelicite,  to  see 
her  the  next  day ;  and  Beaudesert,  who  had  picked  up  a 
little  Spanish  in  the  course  of  his  wanderings,  went 
beside  the  little  mule  carriage  in  which  they  trav- 
elled, to  speak  for  them.  Beaudesert  returned  in 
time,  somewhat  angered,  for  it  had  not  been  a  ready 
welcome  that  the  poor  exiles  had  met  with.  The 
Spanish  nuns  seemed  to  have  a  general  idea  that  all 
the  French  were  rebels,  murderers,  regicides,  if  not 
"  Luteranos  " ;  and  though  the  Prioress,  Madame  de 
Ste.  Lucie  as  he  called  her,  had  convinced  the  por- 
tress, and  afterwards  the  Superior  by  the  passwords 
of  the  Order  that  she  belonged  to  them,  they  were 
270 


chap,  xxn  GIBRALTAR  271 

horribly  disgusted  by  her  secular  apparel,  and  could 
not  understand  that  it  had  been  necessary  even  in 
Toulon,  which  in  fact  had  been  more  like  the  Girondin 
republicans  than  actually  loyal. 

They  had  taken  all  the  three  in  for  a  few  days  at 
the  utmost,  on  Beaudesert's  assurance  that  means  for 
disposing  of  them  elsewhere  should  be  found  as  soon 
as  possible.  He  had  found  out  on  the  way  that  one 
lady  wanted  to  join  her  son  and  daughter-in-law, 
whom  she  believed  to  be  in  London,  and  that  another 
had  relations  at  Madrid,  while  Madame  de  Ste.  Lucie 
wished  to  go  to  Rome  to  present  herself  to  the  head 
of  the  Order,  and  give  such  account  as  she  could  of 
her  "daughter  in  religion."  "Indeed,"  said  M.  Beau- 
desert,  "  I  am  glad  of  it,  for  if  she  will  give  a  can- 
did account  of  the  coercion  used  with  Mademoiselle 
de  Monfichet,  nothing  would  tell  so  much  in  our 
favour." 

"  Ah ! "  exclaimed  Caroline,  "  I  verily  believe  that 
Providence  has  brought  us  all  together  for  the  pur- 
pose." 

"  And  the  generous  goodness  of  the  best  of  friends," 
returned  Beaudesert,  with  deep  sincerity  if  with  much 
gallantry  of  manner.  All  the  next  morning  was  spent 
by  him  and  Captain  Aylmer  in  looking  for  a  vessel  to 
transport  Madame  de  Jolimont  to  England;  and  at 
length  they  found  one  of  the  swift  "  orange  vessels," 
which  made  their  voyage  too  quickly  to  be  caught  by 
Moorish  pirates  or  French  privateers.  The  poor  thing 
would  be  very  uncomfortable,  but  it  would  not  last 
long,  and  it  could  not  be  helped.  The  other  lady  was 
despatched  with  a  sort  of  caravan  of  muleteers  to 
Seville,  where  she  would  find  a  coach  to  take  her  to 
her  friends,  to  whom  she  had  written,  and  who  per- 


272  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

haps  would  meet  her  there.  The  Prioress  would  be 
the  Aylmers'  guest. 

"  Poor  woman,  let  her  come,"  said  the  captain,  "  we 
shall  not  be  the  worse  for  it.  She  was  your  school- 
mistress, Carry,  and  I  would  give  a  good  deal  more 
than  an  old  lady's  board  to  get  your  pretty  little 
Felicite  out  of  this  tangle  they  have  made  for  them- 
selves, though  I  can't  for  the  life  of  me  see  why  the 
poor  things  should  not  get  Casaforte  to  marry  them 
out  of  hand  and  make  the  old  Pope  give  leave  when 
it  was  done." 

"As  if  you  would  serve  Lord  Hood  in  that  way," 
exclaimed  Caroline,  with  a  little  playful  slap. 

But  the  captain,  when  on  shore,  was  the  most  cour- 
teous and  hospitable  of  hosts,  and  the  Mother  Prioress, 
though  she  knew  not  a  word  of  his  language,  could 
not  help  contrasting  his  gentle,  respectful  tone  with 
that  of  the  Spanish  nuns,  from  whom  she  was  glad  to 
escape ;  for  they  were  nearly  ready  to  make  her  do 
penance  for  being  willing  to  consort  with  "  Luteranos  "  ; 
and  really  she  thought  that  save  for  the  neighbour- 
hood of  the  English,  she  might  have  had  to  give  an 
account  of  her  faith  to  an  official  of  the  Inquisition. 
She  suspected,  too,  that  they  were  poor,  for  though 
there  were  splendid  jewels  and  plate  in  the  chapel, 
and  the  meals  were  served  on  silver,  there  had  ap- 
peared no  food  but  beans  dressed  with  oil  and  garlic. 
The  convent  of  Ste.  Lucie  had  kept  the  rule ;  but  with 
the  daintiness  of  French  cookery  and  after  all  the 
mother's  terrible  experiences,  the  bill  of  fare  of  Santa 
Eulalia  could  not  but  be  remembered  with  disgust, 
coming  as  it  did,  when  she  needed  refreshment  after 
the  disorders  of  the  voyage.  But  she  was  a  good 
woman,  and  this  time  of  chastening  had  caused  her  to 


chap,  xxn  GIBRALTAR  273 

leave  behind  "her  much  of  the  worldliness  of  Madame 
de  Ste.  Lucie,  bred  up  to  keep  terms  with  the  nobility 
and  higher  clergy,  and  to  manage  her  estates  and  their 
tenants.  She  shared  the  same  room  with  Felicite,  and 
Caroline  suspected  that  they  wept  together  all  night. 
Little  Eustace,  who  had  believed  grown-up  people 
never  cried,  had  his  opinions  on  that  head  a  good  deal 
modified ;  for  the  two  ex-nuns  could  hardly  speak  of 
their  sisters  without  tears.  The  Prioress  knew  the 
fate  of  some  who  had  joined  their  own  families,  but 
of  others  she  was  uncertain ;  and  it  was  a  great  conso- 
lation to  see  one  of  her  daughters  and  to  know  that 
two  more  were  in  such  good  quarters. 

But  the  real  comfort  was  with  the  Abbe  Casaforte. 
Both  he  and  the  Prioress  met  as  those  delivered  won- 
drously  from  the  very  jaws  of  death,  where  so  many 
had  perished ;  and  the  lady  with  the  additional  sense 
that  her  life  had  been,  all  unwittingly  to  herself,  pur- 
chased by  the  self-sacrifice  of  her  companion,  whom 
plainly  the  gen  cVarmes  thought  he  was  saving. 

Of  their  fellows  they  could  only  think  in  the  words 
of  the  Book  of  Wisdom,  "  In  the  sight  of  the  unwise 
they  seemed  to  die,  and  their  departure  was  taken  for 
misery,  and  their  going  from  us  to  be  utter  destruc- 
tion, but  they  are  in  peace." 

The  Prioress  told  Caroline  that  there  was  nothing 
for  which  she  so  thanked  Heaven  as  that  Felicite  de 
Monfichet  was  not  sharing  her  perils,  and  that  the  sin 
which  had  pressed  most  severely  on  her  conscience 
had  been  her  connivance  at  the  compulsion  which 
had  brought  about  the  young  girl's  reluctant  profes- 
sion. Everything  had  pressed  her.  She  was  a  rela- 
tion of  the  Monfichet  family  herself,  quite  near  enough 
to  feel  a  personal  interest  in  their  affairs,  and  to  be 


274  THE    RELEASE  part  11 

willing  to  do  anything  to  avert  the  disgrace  of  the 
mesalliance,  and  to  save  a  large  proportion  of  the 
daughter's  dot  for  the  son  and  heir.  On  the  other 
hand  the  convent  was  poor  enough  to  make  the  por- 
tion a  matter  of  importance,  and  the  Bishop  of  Char- 
milly  impressed  on  her  that  it  was  a  duty  to  overcome 
the  sinful  scruples  of  the  recreant  maiden.  So  with 
severity,  that  she  then  thought  her  duty,  but  by  and 
by  beheld  as  mere  worldliness,  she  had  silenced  en- 
treaties and  representations  from  the  girl,  she  had 
suppressed  appeals,  and  answered  for  the  vocation 
that  was  utterly  wanting,  all  as  she  thought  piously 
for  the  good  of  the  child  and  of  the  Church. 

Such  fallacies  had  fallen  away  from  her  as  she 
crouched  in  a  corner  of  the  Luxembourg  in  mo- 
mentary expectation  of  the  pike.  It  was  brought 
home  to  her  the  more  what  was  a  true  vocation,  as 
the  devoted  virgin,  as  she  watched  Soeur  Francoise. 
Through  all  they  had  undergone  together,  the  whole 
impression  left  on  her  mind  was  of  the  maiden's  per- 
fect happiness  and  unfailing  joy,  even  to  that  last 
smile  of  encouragement  with  which  she  went  to  her 
death. 

And  now  it  was  with  extreme  joy  that  she  learnt 
that  such  expiation  might  be  open  to  her  as  the  power 
of  pleading  for  the  release  of  Belicite  from  her  vows, 
and  of  giving  her  own  testimony  to  their  imperfect 
utterance. 

"  Truly,"  she  said  to  Mrs.  Aylmer,  "  it  would  seem 
as  if  my  life  had  been  given  to  me  in  the  stead  of 
that  sweet  martyr  that  I  might  be  able  to  plead  for 
the  undoing  of  the  wrong  to  those  poor  lovers,  and 
thus  atone  in  part  for  my  share  in  the  sin." 

As  the  Prioress  meant  to  go  to  Borne,  where  were 


chap,  xxn  GIBRALTAR  275 

the  headquarters  of  her  Order,  Captain  Aylmer  saw 
no  necessity  for  his  wife's  accompanying  Felicite,  and 
was  better  pleased  that  she  should  be  out  of  reach 
of  any  seductions,  or  indeed  claims,  of  the  Eoman 
Church,  since  there  was  no  denying  that  she  had 
been  baptized  by  a  West  Indian  priest.  The  Inqui- 
sition still  existed,  and  no  one  could  guess  where  its 
powers  might  extend.  Caroline  was  disappointed, 
laughed,  and  said  there  was  not  much  fear  with  H.  M. 
fleet  no  farther  off  than  Civita-Vecchia,  but  he  used  his 
authority,  and  she  had  to  submit  and  see  her  friends 
sail  away  in  a  Spanish  ship,  guarded  from  Moorish 
pirates  by  the  English  fleet.  How  they  wept,  and  de- 
clared that  their  lives,  and  more  than  their  lives  were 
owing  to  their  brave  English  friends  can  well  be  imag- 
ined. It  was  a  final  parting  with  the  Abbe  and  with 
the  Mother  Prioress,  who  meant  to  remain  at  Home, 
but  Beaudesert  declared  that  he  should  return  to 
America  by  way  of  England,  and,  as  he  trusted,  bring 
his  wife  with  him. 

"  Ah !  "  said  Felicite,  as  she  gave  her  last  embrace 
to  Caroline,  "  I  shall  never  forget  what  you  said  to  me 
about  prayer  when  I  was  in  my  deepest  trouble." 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

FREE 

'Tis  well !  from  this  day  forward  we  shall  know 
That  in  ourselves  our  safety  must  be  sought, 
That  by  our  own  right  hands  it  must  be  wrought. 

Wordsworth. 

Nothing  had  been  heard  from  the  lovers  when  the 
Leopard  was  ordered  home  to  join  Lord  Howe's  Chan- 
nel Fleet,  and  Caroline,  with  her  little  boy,  was  wel- 
comed by  her  mother-in-law  and  daughter,  now  grown 
out  of  her  baby  charms  into  the  lank,  growing  girl  to 
whom  "  multiplication  was  a  vexation,"  and  nouns  and 
verbs  were  the  trying  business  of  life,  or  rather  trying 
interruptions  in  the  affairs  of  life,  the  doll's  domestic 
economy,  and  whoop  hide  in  the  garden.  Eustace  had 
grown  old  enough  to  despise  the  doll,  and  insist  on 
naval  battles  in  the  pond,  with  the  fleet  constructed 
for  him  by  the  crew  of  the  Leopard.  "Mamma"  was 
by  far  his  best  antagonist,  far  above  the  little  boys, 
his  neighbour's  small  boys  being  far  inferior  to  her, 
not  only  in  knowledge  of  the  subject,  but  in  spirit 
and  enterprise;  but  their  mothers  and  aunts  were 
greatly  scandalised  at  seeing  Mrs.  George  Aylmer 
sailing  toy  boats,  among  a  flock  of  little  boys. 

The  fleet  was  in  the  Channel,  so  communication 
was  easy,  and  mother  and  wife  were  so  far  happy, 
though  they  suffered  from  every  storm  that  blew  in 
276 


chap,  xxin  FREE  277 

the  knowledge  that  the  Leopard  was  exposed  to  it. 
They  did  not  know,  when  off  Cape  Finisterre,  the 
English  fleet,  on  the  1st  of  June,  was  winning  a  brill- 
iant victory  over  the  French.  The  first  tidings  that 
actually  reached  them  was  in  a  note  to  Caroline  sent 
from  Plymouth. 

"All  well.  Thank  God.  Leopard  a  good  deal 
knocked  about,  and  her  captain  too.  Contusion  in 
left  side,  broken  arm,  ten  men  killed,  twenty  and 
lieutenant  wounded.  Thanks  from  Lord  Howe.  You 
will  not  be  contented  without  coming  to  see  me  and  to 
share  the  honours,  so  I  shall  expect  you.  G-.  A. 

"Love  to  mother  and  children.  No  cause  for 
anxiety." 

Caroline  found  her  husband  on  a  couch  in  his  cabin, 
in  a  good  deal  of  pain  at  times,  but  in  high  spirits, 
and  only  regretting  that  the  victory  had  not  been 
more  complete,  owing  to  the  mistakes  of  some  of  the 
captains,  of  whom,  however,  he  had  not  been  one,  but 
the  Leopard  had  done  her  part  in  breaking  the  French 
line.  Battered  and  bruised  she  looked,  though  her 
masts  and  cordage  had  been  repaired,  and  Mrs.  Aylmer 
was  able  to  make  prize  of  a  French  cannon-ball,  which 
was  brought  to  her  in  triumph  by  a  little  midshipman. 
Both  the  Leopard  and  her  captain  were,  however,  so 
dilapidated  that  they  were  to  be  paid  off  for  the  pres- 
ent, and  there  was  to  be  an  interval  for  recovery  at 
home. 

"  How  are  all  your  old  French  ladies  ?  "  asked  the 
captain. 

"  Very  well ;  your  mother  has  grown  very  fund  of 
Cecile  de  Henisson,  and  would  miss  her  very  much  if 
she  went  out  to  G-uadaloupe;  and  as  for  the  two 
mothers,  they  wept  rivers  of  tears  over  the  history  of 


278  THE    RELEASE  part  ii 

the  Prioress,  but  they  are  fully  occupied  and  fairly 
cheerful." 

"  If  I  am  sent  out  to  the  West  Indies,  I  may  get 
some  news  of  your  cousins  there ;  what's  their  name  ?  " 

"Nidemerle.     On  Ste.  Marie  Galante." 

"  Old  Jervis  will  have  a  hand  upon  the  islands  by 
this  time.  Never  fear,  Ave  shall  not  touch  civilians. 
They  will  be  better  off  than  under  your  French  devils." 

"  I  wonder  if  I  could  write  to  Melanie  ?  " 

"Of  course.  Give  your  letter  to  the  first  captain 
commissioned  to  the  station,  and  he  will  get  it  to 
them." 

"  Shall  we  ever  hear  again  of  Felicite  ?  I  should 
dearly  love  to  know  whether  she  was  successful  at 
Rome." 

"  Or  clapped  into  the  Inquisition.  No,  no,  that  is 
not  likely  in  these  days,  even  in  the  very  den  of  Giant 
Pope.  But  I  cannot  say  I  ever  expect  to  hear  of  her 
or  Beaudesert  again." 

"  Oh,  George !  what  do  you  think  can  have  hap- 
pened to  them  ?     Not  the  Inquisition  ?  " 

"Hardly,  though,  by  the  bye,  Spanish  or  Italian 
sailors  would  be  apt  to  think  his  dealings  with  light- 
ning had  a  spice  of  the  black  art,  But  suppose  they 
succeeded,  letters  are  not  easy  of  conveyance ;  and  if 
they  were,  a  crew  sailing  before  a  fair  wind  is  apt  to 
forget  who  helped  them  through  the  shoals." 

"  I  don't  believe  it  of  Felicite." 

The  words  had  hardly  passed  Caroline's  lips,  when 
there  were  sounds  to  be  heard,  and  the  captain's  ser- 
vant came  to  the  door,  saying,  "  If  you  please,  sir, 
there's  a  boat  alongside  with  the  French  lady  and 
gentleman  who  went  out  to  Gibraltar  with  us.  They 
want  to  see  you  and  madam." 


chap,  xxin  FREE  279 

"There  !"  in  triumph  cried  Caroline,  "you  are  equal 
to  seeing  them  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  am.     Bring  them  down  at  once." 

Caroline  hastened  on  deck,  where  she  found  the 
second  lieutenant  superintending  the  drawing  up  in  a 
chair  of  a  lady,  looking  so  bright  and  happy  that  she 
was  hardly  to  be  recognised,  till,  unheeding  all  the 
crew,  she  threw  herself  into  her  friend's  arms,  scarcely 
able  to  utter  a  greeting  for  joy  and  emotion,  while 
Beaudesert,  climbing  up  more  freely  after  her,  seized 
Mrs.  Ay  liner's  hand,  and  kissed  it,  exclaiming,  "  Our 
benefactress."  Then  ensued  an  eager  inquiry  for 
"monsieur  le  capitaine"  and  his  wound,  on  which 
Caroline  led  the  way  to  the  cabin,  where  her  husband 
rose  with  outstretched  hand,  and  there  was  a  whirl  of 
congratulation  and  inquiry,  before  the  newcomers  sat 
down  to  be  served  with  wine  and  cake,  and  to  tell 
their  adventures. 

Landing  at  Civita-Vecchia,  after  a  very  comfortless 
voyage  in  a  Spanish  ship,  far  from  clean,  the  Abbe 
Casaforte  had  first  escorted  the  Prioress  and  Felicite 
to  the  Abbey  of  Santa  Lucia,  where  they  were  wel- 
comed, and  he  most  especially,  as  if  they  had  come 
back  from  the  den  of  lions.  There  he  left  them,  and 
Felicite  became  Soeur  Philomene  again,  resumed  her 
veil  and  the  monastic  customs,  though  this  was  an 
easy-going  convent,  far  more  so  than  the  French  one, 
where  the  influence  of  Port  Koyal  had  been  felt. 

Beaudesert  meantime  had  been,  through  all  his 
anxiety,  infinitely  struck  with  Rome,  chiefly,  perhaps, 
on  the  classic  side.  If  they  had  but  known  it,  this 
was  the  very  last  view  of  mediaeval  Borne.  Already 
when  he  was  speaking  the  French  were  at  the  door, 
and  soon  the  Pope  would  be  a  fugitive,  and  Napoleon's 


280  THE    RELEASE  part  11 

tyranny,  that  tyranny  which  would  bring  about  uni- 
versal innovation,  was  about  to  begin. 

But  when  Beaudesert  was  there  the  majestic  relics 
of  the  great  clays  of  the  empire,  and  of  Senatus  Popw- 
bisque  Romanus,  still  were  in  strange  contrast  or  else 
adaptation  with  the  mediaeval  splendours.  St.  Peter's 
reigned  supreme  ;  the  Vatican,  adorned  in  the  Renais- 
sance perfection  of  art,  was  still  the  centre  of  a  mag- 
nificent ecclesiastical  court  of  prince  cardinals  and 
bishops,  and  the  tall  castellated  palaces  of  the  old  his- 
toric nobility  frowned  along  the  streets,  with  Italian 
verdure  showing  over  their  walls  and  in  the  loggias. 

Beaudesert  was  in  a  world  of  enchantment  as  he 
was  carried  along  to  be  presented  to  Cardinal  de  York. 
at  the  beautiful  villa  at  Frascati,  laid  out  in  terraces 
shaded  with  vines,  ornamented  with  trees,  and  with 
exquisite  flowers  in  borders. 

The  descendant  of  kings,  a  mild-faced,  stout,  indo- 
lent, elderly  man  dressed  in  purple,  and  with  touches 
of  scarlet  enough  to  show  his  ecclesiastical  rank, 
moreover  with  the  blue  ribbon  of  the  Garter  round  his 
neck,  was  sitting  at  his  ease  under  a  bower,  with  a 
priest  reading  his  breviary  to  him  while  he  nodded 
through  it.  But  on  the  announcement  of  the  Abbe 
Casaforte,  he  rose  with  outstretched  arms,  and  with 
the  exclamation  in  Italian,  "My  son.  my  dear  son, 
miracles  do  not  cease,"  embraced  him  heartily. 

Beaudesert  was  presented,  and  His  Eminence  desired 
to  hear  the  story  of  the  rescue,  which  had  been  told 
by  letter ;  but  to  Beaudesert' s  acute  eyes  and  ears  it 
did  not  appear  to  have  been  entirely  taken  in,  and 
even  during  the  narration  it  might  be  doubtful  whether 
the  old  man  were  thoroughly  awake ;  but  there  was  no 
question  of  his  gladness  to  welcome  his  secretary. 


chap,  xxin  FREE  281 

Supper  was  served  in  great  state,  and  in  most  dainty 
fashion,  but  it  was  long  and  tedious,  and  cards  and 
coffee  seemed  the  only  subsequent  resource.  Beau- 
desert  owned  that  he  could  not  help  recollecting  what 
the  Pope  was  alleged  to  have  said,  after  an  interview 
with  the  last  of  the  Stewarts,  that  he  did  not  wonder 
that  the  English  had  expelled  them. 

Still,  when  not  taken  unawares  and  half  asleep, 
Cardinal  Henry  of  York  was  a  stately,  noble-looking 
prince,  and  a  very  kindly  man. 

"  It  seemed  to  me,"  said  Beaudesert,  "  that  he  took 
refuge  in  apathy  from  dwelling  on  the  misfortunes  of 
his  race.  To  me  he  was  very  kind,  all  the  more  that 
I  do  not  think  he  ever  quite  understood  that  I  was 
not  English,  and  could  not  lay  claim  to  the  honour  of 
saving  the  Abbe." 

"It  made  him  all  the  more  friendly  to  our  suit," 
said  Felicite. 

"I  believe  it  did,  though  I  was  always  trying  to 
undeceive  him,  and  did  not  always  know  when  I  was 
addressed  as  Signor  Capitano  Inglese ;  nor  why  he  was 
so  much  pleased  to  see  me  kneeling  in  his  chapel  come 
buoii  Catolico !  However,  he  was  very  good  and  kindly 
to  us,  greatly  owing  to  good  Casaforte's  mediation.  On 
the  next  day  we  set  forth  in  his  carriage,  with  the 
purple  liveries,  four  horses,  and  all  the  ornaments  of 
state,  that  he  might  see  the  Prioress  and  mademoiselle. 
It  was  like  being  in  a  dream  to  see  all  the  splendour 
and  grandeur  renewed  that  I  remember  in  former 
times  at  Paris,  and  the  convent  in  like  manner,  a 
great  castellated  building,  while  the  streets  were 
thronged  with  priests,  monks,  and  friars,  black,  white, 
and  grey.  The  adulation  with  which  he  was  received 
at  the  convent  was  a  perfect  revival  of  what   might 


282  THE    RELEASE  part  ii 

have  been  seen  in  Paris.  The  nuns  were  ready  to 
prostrate  themselves  in  delight  at  the  honour  of  a 
visit  from  a  Cardinal  of  royal  birth.  Our  friend,  the 
Mother  of  Ste.  Lucie,  came  forward  as  he  was  admitted 
within  the  grille,  and  was  about  to  prostrate  herself, 
but  he  raised  her,  and  told  her  he  regarded  her  as  a 
martyr.  We  waited  without  —  his  chief  chaplain, 
Casaforte,  and  I  —  while  he  had  private  interviews 
with  our  Prioress  and  with  Felicite.  I  do  not  think 
he  was  insensible  to  Felicite's  beaux  yeux.  for  he  ended 
by  letting  her  kiss  his  hand,  and  promising  to  make 
the  case  known  to  His  Holiness.  We  meantime  were 
entertained  by  the  Prioress  of  the  convent,  and  though 
her  French  was  imperfect  and  my  Italian  still  more 
so,  I  could  perceive  what  a  graceful,  courteous  woman 
of  the  world  she  was,  and  how  delighted  to  do  honour 
to  the  two  confessors." 

"They  could  not  make  enough  of  us/'  said  Felicite. 
"  Our  Mother  was  quite  distressed  at  the  luxuries  they 
insisted  on  giving  her.  She  told  me  that  she  should 
resist,  or  else  seek  another  sisterhood,  and  withhold 
her  name  and  history,  so  as  to  be  permitted  to  mourn 
all  her  life  for  what  she  now  calls  her  worldly  rule." 

"  And  the  Cardinal  ?  "  asked  Caroline. 

"  He  was  very  good  and  gracious,  only  he  laughed  a 
little  as  he  heard  of  my  resistance,  and  winked  with 
his  eyes,  in  a  way  too  like  some  of  the  pictures  that 
your  uncle  has.  But  he  promised  to  represent  our 
case,  and  to  present  us  to  His  Holiness." 

"And  he  did?" 

"  Oh  yes.  We  waited  long  and  long,  and  we  were 
told  that  there  were  whisperers  representing  that 
Monsieur  cle  Beaudesert's  inventions  were  inspired  by 
demons."  said  Felicite. 


chap,  xxin  FREE  283 

"Yes,  it  is  true/'  interposed  her  husband;  "but 
happily  there  were  others  more  enlightened,  and  the 
Cardinal  himself  enjoyed  my  experiments,  though  I 
cannot  say  he  seemed  to  understand  them.  At  last, 
however,  came  intelligence  that  His  Holiness  wished 
to  see  the  Abbe  Casaforte,  as  a  confessor  who  had 
actually  suffered  and  been  resuscitated.  I  believe  the 
Abbe  pleaded  our  cause  effectually,  and  answered  for 
my  orthodoxy,  for  by  and  by  the  Prioress  and  Felicite 
were  summoned  to  the  Vatican." 

"  Did  you  go  as  a  nun  ?  "  asked  Caroline. 

"  Yes,"  said  she ;  "  I  had  resumed  my  habit  in  the 
convent.  The  good  Cardinal  called  for  us  in  his  car- 
riage, and  took  us  to  the  palace,  where  we  went  up 
marble  stairs  on  stairs,  through  galleries  lined  with 
gorgeous  Swiss  guards,  swarming  with  clergy,  a  com- 
ing and  going  enough  to  make  one  dizzy,  till  we 
reached  a  small  inner  room,  where  sat  His  Holiness 
all  in  white,  with  a  sweet  and  loving  face.  We  knelt 
to  kiss  his  foot,  but  he  raised  the  Mother  at  once,  and 
said  he  could  not  receive  such  homage  from  one  who 
had  suffered  martyrdom.  He  asked  her  a  few  ques- 
tions —  in  French  —  about  the-  dispersion  of  her  nuns 
and  her  own  adventures,  and  then  he  turned  to  me. 
I  should  say  that  I  had  drawn  up  a  statement  which 
had  been  translated  both  into  Latin  and  Italian  by 
Monsieur  there,  and  the  Abbe  Casaforte." 

" '  Is  this  true,  my  daughter  ? '  he  said,  as  I  knelt 
before  him. 

" '  Ah !  your  Holiness,  every  word  is  from  my 
heart.' 

" '  You  were  coerced  and  compelled  and  never 
uttered  the  vows.' 

"  Then,  after  a  word  or  two  more,  he  laid  his  hand 


284  THE   RELEASE  part  ii 

on  me,  and  gave  me  his  blessing,  delegating  his  author- 
ity to  the  head  of  our  Order  to  absolve  me  from  my 
vows !  I  kissed  his  hand,  he  blessed  us  both,  and  I 
recollected  happily  to  ask  his  blessing  for  three 
crosses  for  Meres  St.  Hilaire  and  de  l'Annonciation, 
and  their  kind  hostess.  That  was  all,  I  think;  the 
Cardinal  took  us  away.  The  absolution  followed  in 
the  Church  of  our  Order." 

"  And  the  next  day  it  was  Casaforte  who  united  us, 
and  the  Cardinal  who  gave  us  his  nuptial  blessing," 
added  Beaudesert. 

They  had  afterwards  made  their  way  to  England 
by  a  devious  course,  through  Switzerland  and  Hol- 
land, and  arriving  in  London  had  secured  a  passage 
in  an  American  ship  which  was  about  to  sail  from 
Plymouth,  trusting  to  the  security  from  French  ves- 
sels likely  to  prevail  after  Lord  Howe's  victory. 

"  And  Felicite  is  prepared  to  live  the  rough  life  of 
an  American  engineer's  wife  after  all  the  luxuries  to 
which  she  was  brought  up  as  fille  de  qualite"  said 
Beaudesert,  looking  at  her  tenderly. 

uAh!  what  joy  the  life  will  be!"  she  said,  "now 
at  last  my  name  becomes  appropriate !  " 

"Nay,  it  is  I  who  can  say  'my  Felicity,' "  returned 
her  husband. 

So  Monsieur  and  Madame  Beaudesert  took  their 
leave  for  the  present,  still  in  all  the  joys  of  their 
honeymoon,  though  the  period  had  well-nigh  departed. 
When  they  were  gone  Captain  Aylmer  held  up  his 
hands  saying,  "  That  is  well.  They  have  gone  through 
a  good  deal  before  getting  into  harbour,  but  it  is  hard 
to  see  how  the  blessing  of  an  old  Italian  sets  them  at 
their  ease." 

"  Ah,  George,  you  never  grew  up  to  think  he  stood 
in  the  place  of  the  Head  of  the  Church." 


chap,  xxin  FREE  285 

"  No !  thank  God,  I  never  did.  I  look  higher.  I 
trust  you  do,  Carry,  for  all  your  bringing  up."' 

"Indeed  I  hope  I  do.  But  remember  what  your 
mother  says  :  '  Whatever  is  not  of  faith  is  sin ' ;  and 
Felicite  has  held  to  her  conscience." 

"  Yes.  Obeyed  her  orders,  and  no  doubt  she  was 
right,  and  he  is  an  honest  fellow,  and  the  cleverest  I 
ever  came  across  yet,  except  perhaps  little  Horatio 
Nelson  in  his  own  line.  I  hope  it  will  go  as  well  with 
them  both  as  they  deserve." 

And  as  far  as  could  be  gathered  from  their  letters, 
so  it  did  in  their  new  home,  where  Beaudesert  became 
a  prosperous  director  of  the  mines,  and  Felicite  pre- 
sided over  a  chateau  as  like  that  of  Monfichet  as  the 
climate  would  permit,  with  a  chapel  served  by  a  fugi- 
tive French  priest,  and  whither  French-speaking  work- 
men and  peasants  gathered  from  the  New  Orleans 
neighbourhood. 

They  soon  knew  that  Felicite's  release  was  one  of 
the  last  authoritative  acts  performed  by  poor  Pius  VI. 
ere  he  was  driven  from  Eorae  by  fears  of  the  French 
aggressors,  who  seemed  to  have  been  sent  to  chastise 
all  Europe,  after  the  awful  devastation  of  their  own 
country.  The  last  of  the  Stewarts,  Cardinal  Henry  of 
York,  shared  in  this  suffering,  having  contributed  all 
his  property  and  jewels  to  assist  in  raising  the  sum 
imposed  on  the  Pope  by  Buonaparte,  and  afterwards, 
on  the  second  French  invasion  of  Italy,  being  stripped 
of  all  his  property,  so  that  he  would  have  been  reduced 
to  absolute  want  save  for  a  pension  granted  him  by 
George  III. 

The  Abbe  Casaforte  was  reported  to  have  been  last 
seen  tending  the  wounded  at  the  battle  of  Marengo, 
and  was  thought  to  have  died  by  a  stray  shot.     He 


286  THE    RELEASE  part  ii 

had  lived  a  most  ascetic  life,  entirely  among  the  many 
sufferers  of  the  time,  as  though  convinced  that  his 
rescue  from  the  noyade  had  been  for  the  sake  of  let- 
ting him  show  his  repentance  for  his  former  diplomatic 
courtly  life. 

The  Nidemerles  returned  to  their  former  home  with 
diminished  fortunes,  and  Madame  de  Henisson  joined 
them,  but  Captain  Aylrner  —  or  rather  Admiral  Ayl- 
mer,  for  such  he  became  after  the  battle  of  the  Nile 
—  declared  that  he  would  never  let  his  Caroline  again 
risk  herself  among  her  French  kindred ;  and  when  the 
Peace  of  Amiens  was  suddenly  violated,  she  knew  he 
was  right. 


THE    EXD 


NEW   UNIFORM   EDITION   OF 

CHARLOTTE  M.  YONGE'S  NOVELS 
AND  TALES. 

Uniformly  Bound  in  Cloth  Extra.    Each  Volume,  $1.00. 

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GRISLY    GRISELL;     or,    the    Laidly 
Lady  of  Whitburn.    A  Tale  of  the 
War  of  the  Roses. 
THE  HEIR  OF  REDCLYFFE.     (Illus- 
trated.) 
HEARTSEASE;  or.TheBrother'sWife. 

(Illustrated.) 
HOPES  AND  FEARS.     (Illustrated.) 
DYNEVOR  TERRACE.     (Illustrated.) 
THE  DAISY  CHAIN.     (Illustrated.) 
THE  TRIAL:  More  Links  of  the  Daisy 

Chain.      (Illustrated.) 
PILLARS  OF  THE  HOUSE;  or,  Under 
Wode  under  Rode.     2  vols.     (Illus- 
trated.) 
THE  YOUNG  STEPMOTHER.     (Illus- 
trated ) 
THE     CLEVER    WOMAN     OF     THE 

FAMILY.     (Illustrated.) 
THE  THREE  BRIDES.     (Illustrated.) 
MY  YOUNG  ALCIDES.      (Illustrated.) 
THE  CAGED  LION.     (Illustrated.) 
THE  DOVE  IN  THE  EAGLE'S  NEST. 

(Illustrated.) 
THE  CHAPLET  OF  PEARLS.     (Illus- 

trated.) 
LADY  HESTER,  and  THE  DANVERS 

PAPERS.     (Illustrated.) 
MAGNUM  BONUM.     (Illustrated.) 
LOVE  AND  LIFE.     (Illustrated.) 
UNKNOWN  TO  HISTORY.     A  Story  of 
the  Captivity  of  Mary  of  Scotland. 

THE   LONG 


STRAY  PEARLS.  Memoirs  of  Mar- 
garet de  Ribaumont,  Viscountess  of 
Belaise.     (Illustrated.) 

THE  ARMOURER'S  'PRENTICES. 

THE  TWO  SIDES  OF  THE  SHIELD. 
(Illustrated  ) 

NUTTIE'S  FATHER. 

SCENES  AND  CHARACTERS;  or, 
Eighteen  Months  at  Beechcroft. 

(Illustrated.) 

CHANTRY  HOUSE.     (Illustrated.) 

A  MODERN  TELEMACHUS. 

BEECHCROFT  AT  ROCKSTONE. 

WOMANKIND.  A  Book  for  Mothers 
and  Daughters. 

A  REPUTED  CHANGELING;  or,  Three 
Seventh  Years,Two  Centuries  Ago. 

THE  TWO  PENNILESS  PRINCESSES. 
A  Story  of  the  Time  of  James  I.  of 
Scotland. 

THAT  STICK. 

THE  LITTLE  DUKE.  With  Illustra- 
tions. 

THE  LANCES  OF  LYNWOOD.  With 
Illustrations. 

THE  PRINCE  AND  THE  PAGE.  Illus- 
trated.    New  Edition. 

LITTLE  LUCY'S  WONDERFUL 
GLOBE.     With  Illustrations. 

P'SAND    Q'S.     With  Illustrations. 

AN  OLD  WOMAN'S  OUTLOOK  IN  A 
HAMPSHIRE  VILLAGE. 

VACATION. 


STROLLING    PLAYERS:     A   Harmony  of   Contrasts. 

By  Charlotte  M.  Yonge  and  Christabel  R.  Coleridge. 
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